Tag Archives: poem about a dream

Night Stalking Wordle 534

Night Stalking

I could not bear the tedium of last night’s fruitless sleep,
so I went out hunting in its forests dark and deep.
I drew light through my crosshairs, then held my breath and viewed
a host of tiny forest sprites, dancing in the nude
in and out of shadows, beckoning and waving,
and so, of course, I followed to quench my idle craving.

They flitted to the treetops and scribbled on the sky,
in clouds of strange graffiti they left as they sailed by.
My heart stretched taut in fear that they’d vanish from my gaze.
I feared that they’d forsake me in the morning’s haze.
I cast vain looks around me, at the shadows, at the sky,
but alas no tiny forest gods continued to sail by.

With no digital reminder of these visitors by night,
I have only words to use to tell you of my sight.
Ethereal and shadowed, they conquered my ennui
by cutting through my dreams and entertaining me.
Thus are our lives enriched as we wander off at night,
collecting all the images we’ll later lose to light.

 

Prompts for this week’s Wordle 534 are: bear host scribbled digital gods cast breath taut crave light crosshairs gaze

About the image: This incredible one-of-a-kind sprite was sculpted of polymer clay by Thomas, an artist I used to do shows with. Its background and mounting were fashioned by my friend Sharon Wheat and me many years ago, after she gave me the sculpture as a very generous gift. Many memories come with this post of both past special times and dream times. Since we put a mirror in the background of our little tableau, it was tricky to get the right image in the background which led to a fun outside photo shoot, trying to get an image with trees and plants in the mirrored background without one of myself and the dogs included, since they both were curious and invaded most of the shots. 

Venetian Dreams

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Venetian Dreams

The year we did the Grand Canal,
I came home feeling humble.
My own life just seemed so banal.
My dreams began to crumble.

My life was filled with piety
of very little note.
None of the notoriety
could my First Baptist quote

compared to all the beauty
I’d seen in St. Mark Square.
I felt it was my duty
to be living over there.

I needed no incitement.
My life here seemed so rote.
I needed the excitement
of traveling by boat.

Though it seemed an overindulgence,
I sought to be alone.
I needed the effulgence
of sun shining on old stone.

I could sell my small red Honda,
put my jewelry in hock.
(I had visions of a gondola
waiting at the dock.)

I imagined a “For Sale” sign
in front of my small home.
It seemed a “Get out of Jail” sign.
This housewife sought to roam.

If it sold within two fortnights
I could take off, traveling solo.
I could trade in Sunday sportnights
for a flight to Marco Polo!

I would feel I was at home again.
I’d missed the sights of Venice.
I wanted to be where I’d been,
free from all the menace

of getting three kids off to school
and ironing hubby’s shirts.
I sought to trade the Golden Rule
for romantic nights and flirts.

I’d give up school bake sales
for pannetone and gelato
eaten with Italian males.
“Me First” would be my motto.

I tried to conjure the Rialto,
but I saw the Bridge of Sighs
as my sound track’s rich contralto
assumed a different guise.

“Mommy, Mommy! was the chorus
of my shattered dream.
My stone fantasies were porous,
issuing a frantic stream

of nightmare shrieks and pleadings.
I started down the hall.
My daughter’s midnight needings
my most urgent call.

The canals were left in shambles
as verity flooded in.
So much for fantasy gambles.
My real life won again!

The prompt word today are canal, overindulgence and humble.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/02/15/rdp-friday-canal/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/02/15/your-daily-word-prompt-overindulgence-february-15-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/02/15/humble/