Real Dreams
Waking to the sound of rain.
Watching it trickle down the glass pane.
Walking into the kitchen and pouring some hot tea
Standing by the sliding glass doors and staring at a reflection of me.
Wishing I was outside dancing with the storm and the trees.
smelling the air filled with dampness and wrapping myself in the breeze.
Running into the wet forest with nothing but my bare feet.
Stumbling upon a lake so vivid and meek.
Holding myself in the rain as I twirl in bliss.
Waking from my dream I realize all of this.
It was a magical dream where everything was easy and free.
It was beautiful but yet so real to me.
Copyright © Roxanna Johnson | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment