Angel. A poem.

I dreamed that my Angel walked with me
And we talked at length
A gentle discourse about books, music and coffee

And on the hill beneath the spire
We explored each other shyly
Espousing our thoughts in their entirety
And we kissed each other meekly
Thinking how wonderful this could be
Stomachs churning with dancing butterflies
Wondering if a love so true could lie

I dreamed that my Angel walked with me
But it was just a dream
And dreams belong to sleep


Trois Haiku


Weaving ecstasy 
Musica Exotica
Telecaster Love


Cancerous growth
Burning fear, tempus fugit 
Walk a straighter path


Veil of sleep, behind
Tormented dream, deja vu
Woe begotten tide


I will forever adore the Haiku and its mystical 5/7/5 syllable structure. Here are three I composed this morning.

Scream. A Poem Of Dreams.

The angry tide
The beach swept clean
Refuse returned to the slumber of the sea

The frozen snows
Such bitter cold
Ground disguised, glistening winter freeze

The haunted house
All empty rooms
Cavities and mouldings hold mysteries

The ocean ship
Pitches, rolls away

The storm that blows onward drunkenly
All these things
Broil and seethe
In relentless dreams I drown, I scream

I dream about all sorts of stuff. I know you do too.

Care to share?

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