Dreams Poem by Grace Burke

Evening fades and night descends
All is at peace, the mind can mend
With rest comes sleep and then the dreams
They may not be all they seem.

They are illusions of our inner soul
Our deepest desire, are need to control
They may be what we fear the most
Loss of love, life or a past ghost.

They come as a fleeting thought in time
Often elusive, we can't define
So on we dream, on we feel
We must distinguish which is real.