MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
Little Hoot by Christine Catalano

Table of Contents

Poetry


My Fatherīs Dream

Richard Schnap

He stood before the gilt-framed masterpiece
A panorama of the Hudson River valley
Where flocks of swallows sang in the sun
Accompanied by a soft, whispering wind
And he felt himself lifted by a hidden hand
To be transported to the river’s shore
Where he watched its ripples mirror the sky
With clouds that passed with a drowsy ease

And as he sat in this visionary landscape
He slowly forgot the world left behind
A cruel regime of bullies and betrayers
Who hid their faces behind deceitful masks
But here he could finally be alone
With trees that swayed like beautiful maidens
The picture of his longing come to life
The painting of a realm made real just for him




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