I am in her arms,
Tantalizing,
Caressing me into her realm -
Soft, barely there, like dream clouds,
Brushing at my concentration
On this world.
My vessel came up,
As large waves rise,
Clearing my eyes with sea spray;
I have noted her presence,
Singing to me -
My siren.
Songs without sound
Paint pictures of dreams,
Like sailing with Pan
Above cloudy London nights,
Then peering through to
Mountains in the night,
Tips peaking clouds,
As my mind sails away
With my siren.
A storm wrenches my ship,
Heaving my mind.
My breathe soars
And my eyes falter
Between seen and unseen;
The siren is angry
With my rational mind.
Gently, she takes my hands
And I quake under her lure -
Of calm freedom
And hushed adventures
Under covers, on feathers - light.
I am cradled in her arms,
Rocking my boat back and forth,
And the lull shifts my mind
As I begin to sink into her dreamland.
I swing back and forth
As the world sways before me.
She smiles,
But I catch
A mischievous edge to white shine,
And am cut into reality.
Tears stroll down our eyes
As she reaches, crying out,
But the day has its fences
Spiking white sharp between us,
Glaring bright.
The world focuses before me,
As if suctioned from a daze,
And I stand in reality
But my heart clenches with regret,
Yearning for my siren.
YOU ARE READING
Visions and Dreams
PoetryOh Sleep, my loving respite, this is for you! A compilation of poems that every bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived soul can relate to; enjoy! I've recently added poems about reading and books, dreams and wishes - check it out!
