Sometimes
sometimes
I dream of late
while sound a sleep
or wide awake
of who, and what, and
where and when,
I am
to see the wonders we
have wrought yet others
pending deeper thought.
minds to come that hold
the keys to the making of
you and me.
one question still abides
it swirls around in my insides
when we have answered
all of our questions, what
will be the last dimension
us.
Copyright © Patricia Cresswell | Year Posted 2017
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