Waterfalls and Hand Grenades - A Brief Collection of Poetry

Troubling Dreams

                 

                                                                an Italian Sonnet

                  I fall asleep and drift into a dream.

The worries of the day are quickly dead,

                  And all the thoughts flow right out of my head.

I travel to a world that's plush and green.

                  The colors blow my mind—so crisp and clean.

I settle down upon a flowerbed—

                  So soft with vibrant roses—o so red.

And up above, the clouds are smooth white cream.

                  But suddenly, a snaking, cold, grey mist...

It creeps toward me and wraps around my feet.

                  It coils, smoothly willing bones to break.

I writhe to get away with clenchéd fist,

                  For death and I in dreams shall never meet.

And then my eyes are open, I awake.