She escapes from the claustrophobia
Of her stifling bedroom
And lies in the summer garden
Staring up at dead stars
And the full moon shrouded by
A thin cloud, as if a ghost,
Framed by a glorious golden halo.
Now she is free from petty woes
Hypnotised by the star-freckled night.
An owl hoots as she falls asleep
Drifting through the vast blackness of space.
She is hauled back to earth hearing cats scream
And tries in vain to return to the dream.