Dreaming Poem by Shirley Anne Cook

Dreaming



I dreamed of Dad last night
and when I woke I looked for him,
so real was my dream
it seemed he must be here.
Several minutes passed
before I knew that dreaming
was all it was.

I dreamed of Dad last night,
dressed in the red cardigan I loved,
reeking of his favourite soap.
I'm sure I could smell him here.
Several minutes passed
before I knew that dreaming
was all it was.

I dreamed of Dad last night.
He kissed me in his wet-lipped way
and when I woke it felt as though
his kiss was on me still.
Several minutes passed
before I knew that dreaming
was all it was.

I hope to dream of Dad tonight
that he may speak my name
or laugh in his deep rumbling way.
And I will ask him why he cannot stay,
and if dreaming is all there is.