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Inspired by an odd noise in the middle of the night and the imgination of a poet
In the middle of the night, one winter’s morn,
a sound awoke me from my slumber so warm.
Intermittent it was with a haunting squeal.
I told myself “This just can’t be real.”
I rolled back over to return to my dreams
then the noise turned into melodic screams.
So I threw back the blankets and walked outside
to bare witness to this thing that had cried.
The row of maples so frozen and bare
danced a ballet when they saw me there.
Their branches swaying to the wind’s own beat
luring me in to their midnight retreat.
There was a creaking - but not of their limbs.
Like a metronome, it beckoned me in.
A feeling of horror washed over my bones.
How could this be! Please, not at my home!
The full winter moon cast a powerful light
upon a rope that was swaying that night.
From a branch of one of those maple trees
I could see a ghost...Oh Lord, that ghost was me!
What had happened? How could this exist?
Why was I lead here? Why did I see this?
I turned and ran back to the safety of my home
but once inside, learned, that it wasn’t my own.
Nothing familiar to say that I had been there.
This had to be a dream! A daunting nightmare!
How could my life so unnoticeably leave
to become a creak in the maple trees?
I cried myself to sleep that frigid night
mourning that image...that single sight.
The sun awoke me - rays upon my face...
Safe and sound within my own place.
It was only a dream - none had been real.
Only a reminder that the soul still feels.
©January 7, 2006 Lori S. Maynard
7 minute free write
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|Reviewed by Regis Auffray
|Dreams are most meaningful, Lori; thank you for sharing yours through your verses here. Love and peace to you,
|Reviewed by Phillip William Allen
|Rhyme and rythm well executed to one smooth pen|
|Reviewed by Felix Perry
|Well done and smooth to perfection my young friend Lori. Good to see a post of yours again.
|Reviewed by Peter Paton
|Dreams are symbolic of all that is and all that is to come Lori
This was indeed a scary dream, however we are the purveyors of our own lives,and when we walk in honesty and full confidence, we aspire to all our desired dreams by the Grace of God !
|Reviewed by Sandie Angel
This is an EXCELLENT write! I love poetry that tells a story, especially a good ghostly mystery!
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)