You weaved dreams with your skilfull hands
With silky gossamer thread
They shone in the sunlight
Rippled with the breeze
Sang softly at twilight
Those dreams and words and all that you said.
A wild winter breeze came and blew them away
They lie in the wet mud forlorn;
Those are the dreams of sometime, someday
But they might never have been born;
They took root in me and then grew and grew
These dreams I hope, will ultimately come true.
I love the way this poem talks about dreams being blown away. And from those shattered forms, came new dreams. It's a powerful idea and image.
as when dream is the galloping horse within that leads us where we move, wellpenned,1o+, thanks for sharing
That was a beautiful piece of writting Rani, dreams are born of reality, now hwere have you heared that before 10 your friend Chris
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
dreams are defined variously by various people...... your way of weaving is so beautiful...skillful hands.... silky gassamer imagery...nice imagery....feels good while reading.