My haunted life,
this sleeping dream,
this source of strife
just won't leave me.

When she wakes
I'd sleep forever,
if that would keep
us two together.

But where do you go
when your dream sleeps?
When it's about,
who do you meet?

A country contrived
has places to roam;
just slip out while
she's sleeping at home...

I've visited that land
with it's strangers and fruit.
Exotic as they seem,
they're nothing like my dream.

She inspires me,
that is, when she's around.
Her presence lingers,
a faint, echoing _ .

So when she wakes
where will I be?
living life a lie,
or biding by my dream.



I think i use contractions too much. It's how I speak, but i'm sure it lends to unnatureal reading. Whatchya think?

I don't know about contractions, but I like this poem.

You like my poem! Seriously, I count the views that my posts get as complements: that someone is interested enough to read my work. And then when one says she likes it...!

I had time at work tonight to gather my thoughts and write something a poem I feel is more solid, though it follows the lines of the first poem, so I'll just put it in this post. warning: sappy sappy sappy



A poem for thee
my sleeping dream.

A symphonic write
is my intent.
Everlasting love?
There's no difference.

On nights with you the world is warm
around my body, within my soul
the waters calm and peace is born;
those nights with you, I am whole.

But of course I know, not all is well.
The time is coming, I can tell
precisely when you'll drift to sleep.
Alone, then, I'm left to weep

or mourn or do whatever I choose;
it doesn't matter: you'll not come back.
Away I'll sail, casting off all thoughts of you
and me, us together: thoughts that

haunt my every step and each heart beat,
until the night you start to stir:
and again life lulls in warm, blissful blur.

I'm longing for the day
you wake, we kiss, and then...
then you say,
"Alone, I'll never sleep again."




Thankyou, dear reader, for making it this far.

Pete

natural outpourings showing sensitivity and a kind heart. nice.