Emma is the face and the voice of determination and courage.
Emma is the face and the voice of a generation that
Go Emma go.
early morning train sounds a mournful c minor chord,
in the winter rain,
then fades into the distance,
weeping all the while.
Alone with my thoughts on a river of road, I witness fantastical visions in the landscape:
Of what does the unicorn dream?
Does he envision virgin princesses,
pure and sweet
Trusting and innocent
With scented lap and gentle fingers?
Or crystal castles with vast stables
and endless meadows,
with sweet clover and spicy sorrel,
peopled with hands content to brush
and clean and worship the bright creature?
Or does he dream of darker things,
of war and separation,
of his virgin princess laid bare and ruined,
or his stables burned and raided?
Or does he dream at all?
Is it that he is so pure that he needn’t dream
Because he exists only in dreams?