My Dreams Poem by Peter S. Quinn

My dreams: come and go
And if I can't handle their truth
They move away: fast or slow
In their enticing youth
Like leaves of evergreen
Or a smoldering smoke
Only some remains between
What their thoughts evoke

Stranger some becomes then
In their once ideas so fine
Maybe later they show up again
In another sketching line
What it was its there no more
But a different kind of wondering
Something that has drifted in for
Day of new thoughts pondering

My dreams: up and down
With their many moods going through
Wave’s inspirations drown
Something always to come new
Like it was an unknown sea
Drifting with its billows high
Coming in - to become free
Before they’ll pass out and die