Hi dear friends and followers. Today I have another poem composed by me. Much of this poem consists of my own perceptions on reality and fantasy
What do my dreams truly mean to me?
They are made of my fantasies, of dragons and fairies,
with enough reality between fantasy's flights
to keep me earthbound, like it or not.
The interwoven product is what I offer you,
compiled as stories, short and serial.
Sometimes a poem comes out of the mix,
all of it mine, in words, for you.
There are many short stories and poems in my blog.
If you visit it with and open mind and heart
you can find detailed beauty that most others miss.
I don't write just lines on a typewritten page;
the substance of the stories is through our own experience,
projected into my writer's make-believe world
whose few constraints are left at the door.
Can you imagine each dream sharing its unique
theme, experience, scenes, and lessons?
Some I feel best said in the form of a poem;
others you may think are just silly stories.
But each story is deeply rooted in reality.
Does it matter whether poem or story it be
as long both are woven into the same cloth?
You might just get to pick your own color thread
if you read what I write and a critic you would be!
One may ask, "You dream dreams of things
so long ago, and some long yet to come.
But have you ever dreamed of a land with no time?"
"Dreaming of things that were and never were,
but might be, and those that could have been."
The potentialities! They are a powerful tool
that make the impossible real by removing the odds
of any given reality to be.
Thus is the finite and infinite all at once,
and time and space become completely irrelevant.
Lady Time - Once she was young and had her fantasies.
Today she builds bridges; now some fantasies are real.
She has done as time must
and she is in my older years now.
She lives alone now with her sole mate,
all that is left to her in this reality.
But at one time she had been loved,
by family and friends, but all that were have passed now;
others are too far away and caught-up daily in their own,
keeping dreams alive and reality at bay,
living their own lives with precious time for little else.
She looked at her image in the mirror of the dresser;
the reality of the years had made a furrow or two
but the reality of fantasy helped her to go back
and do a slow pirouette with her gentleman partner
as the belle of the ball relived her dream.
Composed by Cynthia©
✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿