Awakened in haste,
I threw my cotton sheets
into random creases, capturing
my startled dreams.
Later, in the dark cool
stillness I unfolded
that dream soaked sheet.
Each previous tale
of slumber flew
through me, piercing
my silent core.
Naturally, my daily events
and nightly visions unite,
Astaire and Rogers
twirling in the twilight.
So then, dear conscience
where is day
and when is night?
Simple and elegant, I enjoyed this poem. Dreams are such slippery things, to catch them in bed sheets would be so nice...
Cheryl, I know that you did not expect an answer, but, I have one for you anyhow, ... the day and night are still in the same place, ... and still in the same time, right there in those creases of your dreams... - - - twirling in the twilight... deep into the night, with any luck at all. B.V.A.
i really like this, it captures time and is smooth. i enjoy quite a bit of your poems actually. -chad
I have had lucid dreams most my life, with the inevitable problem of telling the two apart. Which is life and which is dream?
this is so relaxing to read..u make me have dreams even though i am wide awake! marvelous poem!
So then, dear conscience where is day and when is night? I just Love it Simply love it...it is indeed Capturing...
The last three lines are very striking to a 'sleepy' mind to reach out some dreams. Nice one Cher!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this poemo. take good care Roger