Harmony of Dreams

Within the sound of a jarring harmony of dreams
a kettle boils and, unattended, dries out - then burns.  
The coffee to which hot water was to be added
waits unsettled, expectant; but dares not speak.
 
Brewers of rank disharmony wreak havoc, flick
twisted aces from out their snaked sleeves and watch  
with grim satisfaction as the hunger-games continue -
a plagued war strategy of slow-boiled frogs.
 
Young cats and dogs, thrown out car windows
before the Easter holidays, roam blankly - thinning, confused.
Whatever happened to the Christmas spirit of their annunciation?
They look hopefully towards cars approaching the T-junction
 
wondering if the driver will turn left - or stop.
Back home the discoloured kettle is refilled, a CD played  
and coffee made, covering over the scratching noise
of insects busy surviving beneath restored floor-boards.
 
I am part of all this - this which is the Earth-School
where each student’s lessons are tailor-made for optimum learning -
learning, the only explanation that makes sense of a strange life …
life within the sound of a jarring harmony of dreams.