now, about my dream

you said you had a dream we met;
a thing we just might do, one day.

though in my dream, it was at night…

a misty, rainy sort of night,
but in a well-lit city park
that kept the midnight far from dark,
and where i called you by your name,
and you embraced me as a friend,
and all the world was wet with tears

for things and places torn and gone,
for dreams that lawyers take away,
for hopes left up on doctor’s shelves,
and cold gray rooms that some romanticize —

but all of that, we didn’t say,
because we knew the other knew,
and lives are rooms behind locked doors,
though our words may be keys…

and then you spoke, although
your words were song;
the misty park dissolved
before too long,
and i awoke, not knowing what
you said,
but with your music
still inside
my head

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

2 thoughts on “now, about my dream”

  1. Love come’s in so many shapes sizes and can be in many things in our dreams it can be such a wonderful fantasy riddled with many things that can hint to a future with a person or people but then when reality sinks in it can be an entirely different setting. For example i can say that being in love is like being in an empty city with someone and sometimes there come’s a point where the buildings will have to come down and tears will fall like rain and you would be alone.

    Liked by 1 person

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