Mysterious Dream
My bed felt like a zareba, hedging me in as I dreamt.
I had no mirror in which to peek, but I feared I was unkempt.
I watched the dream unfolding through my transparent lids.
I perceived myself as admirable, serving food to mate and kids.
Our residence seemed to be a cave, some of you would call a hovel.
The only tools that were in sight, was a prehistoric shovel.
The distant monolith I recognized as an Egyptian pyramid.
The leaders did not build them, their enslaved prisoners did.
They had not yet been invaded, all their bounty was intact.
I don't know how I knew this but I knew it was a fact.
My dream had started fading, though I wanted it to stay.
My lost ones were still with me on that prehistoric day.
I wanted so to hold them, my precious husband and my son.
I prayed the dream would be returning when another day was done.
2/26/14
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2014
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment