Dreaming And Waking
Forsaking all my thoughts to sleep and the stars
While my heart circles in skies not seen before.
I linger, as a bird, in twilight, for all the dark hours
Spent escaping a dreamless sleep, the hateful roar
Of her name in my ears brings no rest.
And yet I seek respite in images of her, cold and clear
photographs illuminate my dreams and nature's jest.
Beholding the face of the one I hold so dear,
Yet only in a reverie. She remains my painful waking dream.
And while I seek her out against my own desire,
Against what I know to be wise and true, I yet seem
To be drawn to her, a moth unto the fire.
And yet it cannot last, this chasing of light,
It is painfully poignant but will never be right.
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Comments about this poem (Dreaming And Waking by Naoimh Spence )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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