Watering the Garden of Dreams

at night I float deep in my dreams I drift among the blinking stars in the night sky I hang on a crescent moon then fall, fall, fall, fall to find myself in a magical garden lush, green, and alive the flowers whisper my name reaching out they caress my cheek, my lips, my hair, my arms such a rich vivid tapestry of colors with petals like velvet and leaves emerald or forest hued I am meandering, wandering a cobbled path, on and on, and on until, I come to an old brick house where a woman is watering flowers and humming a familiar tune I know this house, this woman this tune I start running towards her calling MOTHER . . . suddenly I am in my bed weeping, weeping my tears watering the flowers on my pillowcase ____________________________ April 22, 2020 Poetry/Free Verse/watering the garden of dreams Copyright Protected, ID 20-1245-689-03 All Rights Reserved, 20202, Constance La France Title Chosen #5 Watering The Garden Of Dreams Written for the contest, Pick-A-Title, Vol 16 - Free Verse 2 sponsor, Edward Ibeh Fourth Place