Lost In Dreamland

silhouette of tree during golden hour

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com

LOST in DREAMLAND

Often in my dreams I’m lost
Searching for a far-off home.
No great tension, but unease,
As through those endless streets I roam.

Not knowing where, on earth or heaven,
This aimless wandering is taking me,
I trip and stumble, vaguely sensing
There’s somewhere else I’d rather be.

Pressure builds as worry mounts;
Unrest and trepidation rise.
Strain and traction build with tension,
As with my terrors I fantasise.

I always wake both tense and sweating,
No resolution ever reached,
Leaving me, instead of rested,
Stressed, still tired, my fears increased.

 

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Two Word Tales: #1

close up of scrabble tiles forming the words the end

Photo by Ann H on Pexels.com

Two words

‘Get lost’

They hurt

I cried

 

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My ‘Two Word’ Verses

Throughout this week, I shall publish each day one of a series of short verses which, together, by the end of the week, will have told a story. 

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Lost and Never Found

If I speak with melancholy
If you sense despair,
Think no more of it
I have not quit –
It is a mask I wear.

One which, for sure, I do not relish;
I am not given to gloom.
Yet all unbidden,
No truth forbidden,
I cannot help but speak of doom.

For once upon a wintertime,
Hoar frost upon the ground,
I lost my love
To Him above:
Never again to be found.

Till The World Ends

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Detail of a Dante Gabriel Rossetti painting, modelled by his wife, Elizabeth Siddal

PROMISE TO A LOST LOVE

As the pull of the moon
And the push of the wind
Cause the waves to break on the shore,

So the lure of your face
And the pulse of your heart
Will ever my lifeblood restore.

Till the tides end their flow
And the breeze ceases motion
I vow it’s just you I’ll adore

For when the end comes
And I’m covered in earth
I’ll be with you for time evermore.

 

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LOST DREAMS

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Burne-Jones … ‘Reclining Woman’

LOST DREAMS

There ought to be a better way of living
To find catharsis in these twilight years,
But I am no misanthrope,
My dreams can give me hope
And help to wipe away my tensions and my tears.

So let me lead you now into my dreamworld,
A land where vanished wishes can come true.
Where life and love and pleasure,
And all those things we treasure,
Will follow from our final rendezvous.

A land where angels sing glad songs of romance,
Where the bells remember chimes they’d long forgot;
Where they now forever ring,
And with those angels sing,
And we at last are happy with our lot.

For my frequent dream is one of youth recurring;
A new start in life to live it without pain
To eliminate the stress,
To start again afresh,
To see if my dreams’ bliss I can attain

But the place where dreams are stored is fast receding,
A library of books once felt and read.
Now they will never come to life
Before they meet the pruning knife,
And all those thoughts they bred remain unsaid.

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Burne-Jones … The Briar Rose – detail