poet Margaret Alice

Margaret Alice

The Morning After

I played around with word and sound
whispering my dreams into the wind
enchanted was I by the delight
of echo’s beckoning me
to venture forth

When I looked up my gaze was stopped
by ferns and trees - I frolicked some more
as I adore the freedom of life
in forests and dells

Then a strange voice sweetly caressed
my mind and my thoughts, telling me
what I’m feeling and dreaming - but
it was all wrong, that strange siren song
didn’t reflect my dreams
and ideals

I grew afraid as the voice tried to teach
of dangers unknown - I challenged it
first show me the morning after
what will happen
afterwards?

Tones of bitter regret and remorse
crept into in the voice, berating me
for refusing to play – so I gathered
my dreams and my thoughts

And ran away!

Poem Submitted: Sunday, May 6, 2007
Poem Edited: Tuesday, February 22, 2011

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Comments about The Morning After by Margaret Alice

  • Apothecary Montague (2/21/2010 6:08:00 PM)

    amazing idea, beautiful poem.

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