ally gunther


And the afternoon cacophony,
The breeze through the trees-
The whistling of birds fighting over their food
And the cyclists spurs creaking under the weight-
Are white noise,
Like an empty beach where two lovers sit
In my dreams.

And if there's enough light-
A dream of a day,
Where we'll both lie
You'll whisper my name
And trace patterns down my back
And stare up at the smoke of the sky

And if I've nothing simpler to dream
Through a forest I'll tread barefoot,
And glance at the bristles underfoot
And cut out spirals from too- old trees
If only to tell their age

And your monster unseen
Jumps through a painting
Of red
Of black
Of white
And with its' huge beak it'll trim bark off the trees
And crunch leaves under
Six feet all of paw.
And we'll run together through the grounds of past times
Running from few and from all

But don't jump off that cliff
Unless I'm there to catch you-
Of course-
Wake at the splatter of blood
And sprint from the darkness of hood

Can't let the clouds paint out our skies
And the tone of the clouds will remind us.
That we forgot the brushing of lips-
When I saved you from your creature
We'll fight it together-
You're thankful
And the love letters reminisce so.
But it's not over yet-
The school-bell begins to chime.

With a crack and a snap
Of branches of twigs
Soft white grain appears underfoot
And nothing at all-
But us
Are together-
The waves-
The beach seems too lonely to see
That this'll outlast
What has been typecast
I'll never awake from this dream
Not a single rip at the seam.

And I didn't even ask
For the fourth time
Before you had set about the task
Of playing that sweet melody-
The song sung of trouble-
Of damsels in distress
But all I could view would be you
And you'll tell sweet dreams
Talk of holding and kissing
And then I'll remind you of what I am missing

I'll slowly awake from the dream…
Eyes like blinds wind slowly open
To view through a colourful screen
The shiny gold sheen of you
Lying on your chest and looking up at your blinds
"You must have had a bad dream" you whisper
"It wasn't all bad." I reply-
And answer smiling- just a hint of sly.

Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

My inspiration behind this (as the title suggests) is an accumulation of dreams and the blur of reality

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