Dream Poem by Barry Middleton
Dream
I stole a little piece of day
the world was sleeping through
to watch a mist of fog transform
my neighbor's lawn to fantasy.
I heard the dawn's enchanted
birds, sweet incantations
to pass the spell along,
the dream we claim is real.
The blackened sky
turns nearly white
before the baby blue
and girlish pink
gives up to surer blue
and time to think.
How hard it is
for me to hold
to grief in the dawn,
for dawn is a mirage
of what might be.
And yet how easy
it can be
to forsake hope,
to nourish a sorrow
with the chimera
of yesterday.
I'm so glad you stole a little piece of day so we could share this enchanted moment. The second last verse I explains so concisely why I too love those early hours. The last verse lingers in the background how easy it is for us all to forsake hope. Thanks Barry
You may have stolen a piece of day, but you generously shared it with all of us. Thanks, Barry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:36:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Each dawn is a harbinger of beauty and grace. It fills hearts with glee, still like the blue sky turning dark, sorrowful memories of yesterday can dampen the freshness of each new day!
Thank you for the comment. Glad you liked it.