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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365698" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Daydreams</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sit every day in an office, and play<br>With a ledger that carries my name, <br>And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey<br>On a sky that is always the same, <br>The river winds down by the weed-winding bank<br>But is sluggish and slow in its ride, <br>Heading on out to the estuary, carrying<br>Debris, adrift on the tide. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Just about here was the place, where in fear<br>They once straddled the river in chains, <br>And called up the hundreds, with helmet and shield<br>To defend this poor land from the Danes, <br>And often I peer through the rain and the mist<br>And the grime on the window without, <br>Imagining Vikings enmeshed in the chains, <br>And struggling there, to get out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The office is staffed by grey people in need<br>Who would like to get home to the wife, <br>They mutter in tones of their essence and creed<br>While some of us just want a life, <br>But Caroline Chambers is not one of these<br>She's a flower, sprung out of the weeds, <br>And I see, as she flits between coffees and teas<br>She's a Saxon, her coffee is mead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She pushes the trolley that carries the swords<br>And the helmets, and buckler's too, <br>As she stands by my desk for a chat and a rest<br>She's defiant; she's one of the few.<br>As she stares out the window, I hear her declare<br>That she's not going to put up with this, <br>The Danish accountant has stolen her chair<br>And her venom is mouthed with a hiss.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">‘I'll poison his coffee, you see if I don't, '<br>And her Saxon blood comes to the boil, <br>I get fleeting visions of lopping his head, <br>Or perhaps we should boil him in oil? <br>She wanders away and she hands out the pay<br>As I ravish her there in my mind, <br>And she stares up at me from a puddle of tea<br>Mutters, ‘How could you be so unkind? '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The following day I can see the affray<br>As the Legions march into the town, <br>The Roman Centurions glitter with gold<br>With their standards held high, not put down, <br>And Caroline Chambers, Welsh bonnet and dress<br>With a lilt in her voice, brings the teas, <br>She stands by the chariot of Boadicea, <br>Brings the Legions of Rome to their knees! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I sit every day in an office, and play<br>With a ledger that carries my name, <br>And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey<br>On a sky that is always the same, <br>But Caroline Chambers has shared in my dreams<br>Though she has no idea, she's my wife, <br>As I live in the daydreams of coloured and grey dreams<br>And desperately search for a life! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">23 September 2012</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365698" data-title="Daydreams de David Lewis Paget" data-description="I sit every day in an office, and play
With a ledger that carries my name, 
And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey
On a sky that is always the same, 
The river winds down by the weed-winding bank
But is sluggish and slow in its ride, ..."></div>
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