I want to be a beard of foam

A coherent string of words

Sand drifting through fingertips

A smooth round pebble.

I long to be a tender kiss

Steam rising from a mug

A game of hide and seek

A twirling spark of fire.

I crave to be a soulful cry

The crunch of footsteps in fresh snow

Rose petals fluttering in the breeze

The rush of a waterfall.

I imagine being the roots of an ancient oak

The toll ringing out from a church tower

The wind-whipped mane of a galloping horse

Echoes bouncing between canyon walls.

I dream of being a whispered secret

A ray of sunlight reflected in the river

A dandelion scattered by the wind

The final note of a lullaby.

[Kirsty Campbell]