What Dreams Are Made Of
My dreams are light like a flaming sun at midnight,
brilliance held on ledges molding nights into shapes without edges
'til cherubs gently stir me to awaken restful slumber.
The future radiates in bright eyes without disguise.
They closely resemble my own child-like gaze.
Through an hourglass, I ride a stellar comet to a moonlit mass
and soon find them flourishing in another time and place.
My dreams twinkle again like streaming starlight in the morning rain.
The brightest star guides me through the confusion of life's maze.
I am bold as I embark beyond the stark exterior of the ordinary.
With divine spark, I triumph over the dark and bury my doubt,
romancing the sky until it's a comforting mix of blue and gray,
beauty and simplicity nigh in the early hours of my promising day.
My dreams are a spirited blend of yesterday and tomorrow,
beams of light without sorrow swimming in my afternoon tea.
Every sip passes my lips to soothe me soulfully.
A splash of milk and spoonful of honey sweetens the moment
between you and I, a blessing to savor by and by.
I am delicate yet strong like the teacup of fine china
cradled in eternal hands of love without demands.
My dreams are meant to be shared with you
of heavenly light in morning dew,
of brightest day or silent night,
a living supernatural light from all around.
July 29, 2012
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012
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