Did I dream of England

Did I dream of England

I think I did

She was both cold and warm

At the same time

Offering a steady hand,

Supporting me as I sat

Shaking from the cold.

There was a wind blowing

I heard it whistle down

The chimney

Fanning the flame of a big log fire

Burning in an open grate

It reminded me of Christmas

I knew at some point

Earlier in the day

And for many days before

Someone had blackened the ironwork

Bent

Over it for hours at a time.

I thought it was a memory

Everything seemed intimate

She,

Offered me tea

In a bone china cup

On a china saucer

With a Wedgewood design.

Wrapped a thick blanket

Over my shoulders

And toasted crumpets

Using an ostentatious

Toasting fork.

Butter melted on a dish

My heart was close to follow

The woman’s cheeks were rosy

Her hair, a russet shade of red

Everything I saw was familiar

And yet

Like nothing I had seen before

The room wreathed in the shadows

Of dancing flames,

As she sat opposite

In an upright wooden chair

The light of the fire

Sparkling in her eyes

Smiling with such grace

A Brittania for the ages

A Boadicea finally wrought

A virtuous victory

A circadian rhythm

A silent movie

A magic lantern

Worthy of illumination

A dream of something and nothing

I am left to wonder

Like so many have before

Am I looking to the future

Or am I shackled to the past?