My dreams are such sensitive creatures
do not stifle them,
they tell me to be strong,
they help me through the long
and heavy days.
My dreams are such tentative teachers,
do not trifle them,
they tell me to belong,
they help me sing my song
in so many ways.
My dreams have such lucid features,
do not rifle them,
they tell me I’m not wrong,
they help me through the throng
of daily life – so that reality stays.
My dreams are such reflective preachers,
do not laugh at them,
they give me a direction,
through faithful reflection
of my youthful malaise.
My dreams are such idle weavers,
do not confuse them,
they weave a lazy pattern
in and out of my existence,
through the silky fabric of my life.
My dreams are such busy beavers,
do not distract them,
beavering away in the rivers of my mind
building dams to stem the tide
of dark and lonely demons brandishing nightmare’s knife.
My dreams are such sultry teachers,
do not tempt them,
they hint at something better
and hover just beyond the veil,
beckoning like some lonely and abandoned wife.
My dreams are such high achievers,
do not hold them back,
they yearn to climb the mountains of my mind,
let them reach the heights
to which they strive.
© 2013 Laura Crean
taken from my POETRY book ’A Lifetime of Reflections’ http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-Lifetime-Reflections-Laura-Crean/dp/1447866207/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1394539167&sr=8-4&keywords=laura+crean