Treasure Island

David Harris

(18 June 1945 / Bradfield, England)

A Dream To Chase


Everyone has a dream to chase
in hopes one day it will come true
that keeps them alive
during winter breezes
and the summer’s sun.
A dream that one day will flourish
whenever dreams come to call
in winter, spring summer and fall.

When one dream is fulfilled
a new one comes to take its place.
Some dreams are large
while others are small,
but every dream should be chased
whenever they come to call,
because they make our lives worth living.

How sad it would be
if we didn’t dream at all
and all those achievements we would make
would never come to call.
Our minds would remain
stagnant through the seasons
winter spring summer and fall
which whirl us though our years.


6 July 2013

Submitted: Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A Dream To Chase by David Harris )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 2 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. Look up or down, hasmukh amathalal
  2. Igor, Von Kimball Barney
  3. Does He Think Of Me, Brianna Kimball
  4. Live the life king size, hasmukh amathalal
  5. Tropic Interlude, Liilia Talts Morrison
  6. The Bear and the Crow, Stephen Katona
  7. Still exist, hasmukh amathalal
  8. INCONSTANT LOVE 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  9. HAIKU...The Good Die Young, Ken e Hall
  10. I Know, Lyn Paul

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]