The Sleeper by Margaret Rose Smith
THE SLEEPER
What would the world do with a sleeper
Who slept so soundly
Only to get away from life?
Aside from the leaves that fell
In autumn burn
Our faces flushed like the trees
That towered over our youth
That smell of season
A reminder somewhere of a memory
Hidden away over the years
Lying dormant for a time
Until, we reach out into air
Catching falling leaves as if to
Capture fleeting sprites
It all comes back as if anew
The sights and sounds of a different
Time, and we were happy then
Happy as can be
I can find no quarrel with those days
To go back, ah, to go back!
But the sleeper sleeps
The dreamer dreams a dream
And is his vision real?
He closes his eyes to the pain
Of life, He closes his eyes
With a tear