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
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