In the light of day, the dream night wrapped
in silk before tucking it under your pillow
is nowhere to be found. Find the little box
it came in only to see it has gotten crushed.
All the color bleached out. Frazzled thread
or two of the silk may cling. Bits of sluffed
skin, and the odd dust mite. Empty,
otherwise. Look for something to fill,
the light is so harsh that nothing appeals.
Just have to wait. Sometimes dusk will be
enough to fool a dream into dropping by,
or a clouded sunset. But what's needed is
night. Not to sleep, but wake. Hear
the elves and fairies in nooks and crannies.
See all the color you awoke to in the womb.
Silk and miracle-fiber tapestry so intricately
and lovingly designed. Secret stars bid
to come out of hiding. Ones that shine on
their own right. Suddenly see all the planets,
all the galaxies. Nebulae, and all. Vacuums
known as black holes are offshoots of day,
I think. Suck in dreams and won't let go.
Why I metamorphosed to an owl. Silent
from midnight on. Dreams, I have found,
are pretty shy. Only if it is quiet enough
long enough -- if you are -- do they tiptoe
from their caves. Good to leave tissue and ribbon out for them. Snack left on a counter
helps entice. Like it if you take a nibble
first.. Going to turn off my screen now.
Love to pad to bed by night light.
(c) Phyllis Jean Green, September, 2009
All Rights Reserved
dreams, the secret place of sweet escapes from reality's nagging claws -- you spun this one with spice and imagination -- peace and love my friend -- Jon Michael
THE NIGHT IS THE PERFECT SETTING FOR THE REAL AND UNREAL TO PLAY TOGETHER PRODUCING THE MOST...ENTICING THINGS. WELL DONE WITH FANTASTIC IMAGERY. THANKS FOR SHARING AND BLESSINGS.
JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
I truly enjoyed the images you conjured up and the way you breathed life and personality in such gauzy things as dreams making them come alive in your lines. Nice.
fee
... But what's needed is night. Not to sleep, but wake. ...
What a joy it is to read this poem! It's magical! Transforming! Inspiring!
Darkness is not to be feared, but to be savored, slipped slowly like fine wine - daytime comes too fast. Enjoyed - celebrated - for how else could we dream? How else could we see the splendor of stars sprinkled on the blanket of night, from one horizon to the other? Diamonds on black velvet! How else to make a wish on a shooting star? And if a storm blows in, to watch God autograph the clouds with a silvery pen - each piece of sky an original, personally signed by the Artist TO YOU - Pea, this is GORGEOUS. Thank you! Another favorite of mine (as are YOU). XoXoXoXoXo
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla (fellow dreamer and SkyWatcher)
Reviewed by LadyJtalks LadyJzTalkZone (Reader)
Reviewed on September 7, 2009
Enjoyed this, interesting picture you pen here. of course I'm quite partial to fairies and our women of the forest. LadyJ
The second book in the telepathy series. It contains more ways for the up and coming telepathist to experiment with the sending and receiving of thoughts and is at the end of the story about future telepathy people found unexpectedly chosen by the go
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JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Newfie hugs, Rose
fee
What a joy it is to read this poem! It's magical! Transforming! Inspiring!
Darkness is not to be feared, but to be savored, slipped slowly like fine wine - daytime comes too fast. Enjoyed - celebrated - for how else could we dream? How else could we see the splendor of stars sprinkled on the blanket of night, from one horizon to the other? Diamonds on black velvet! How else to make a wish on a shooting star? And if a storm blows in, to watch God autograph the clouds with a silvery pen - each piece of sky an original, personally signed by the Artist TO YOU - Pea, this is GORGEOUS. Thank you! Another favorite of mine (as are YOU). XoXoXoXoXo
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla (fellow dreamer and SkyWatcher)