Long Dream weaver Poems
Long Dream weaver Poems. Below are the most popular long Dream weaver by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dream weaver poems by poem length and keyword.
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Dream
Weaver,
Where are you?
Caress my hair,
drift through my mind's eye...
Let your fingers dig deep,
unearth the day's toils, plant seeds
that give birth to joyful tendrils
Use these, weave me rivered reveries...
Stay by my side 'til Sun kisses my cheeks
Blanket me in your kaleidoscope warmth
let silken threads of dreams tickle me,
so smiles meet my lips as I sleep
Unravel my wrinkled mind,
smoothen it, breathe new life
with your magic touch
Let me feel you,
Dream Weaver
Visit
me...
..
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Date posted: April 25, 2011 6:40am
A "Flame once burned
A Bundle of Joy
Dramatic Moments
Destine to Love
Memoirs of Legacy
Draped in Moondust
Tasteing Bliss
Sweet taste of Love
A Spiritual Soljourn
An Enchanted Voyage
Along Love Avenue
Rewind one moment
Engage in Love and Marriage
In a Tipsy Frame of mind
Watching and Waiting
What Dreams are made of
When I Think of You
You are a Rose in my Bouquet
Dream Weaver Damsel
Fashioned by Fate
Life is an Adventure
Happines and Hurt
Spiritual Essence
Collaborating in the Clouds
Intimate Inspirations
My Heart Weeps
Velvet Lipps
Misty Moments of Lost Love
Time Heals all Wounds
A Breath of Love to Stand on
Streams of Silence
A Season Finale
( A poem made from a few of Linda's titles I tried to piece together to make some kind of poem to
dedicate to her. We miss her presence and presently are not aware of her condition at this time.
But for the soupers that knew Linda as a dedicated member of our group, I offer this poem as a
show of love for our absent member. Where ever she is she is not forgoten.)
The visions beyond the enduring crisp of firmament,
wishes of ideal and escape into mental decadent.
Dreaming vacancies to the holy sane,
loving aspiration forever by gratitude of reign.
Childhoods play and magical thought wonderland,
where the impossible is the golden rule to understand.
Enchanted places and many self that only oneself really knows,
myriad of creatures in foreign worlds with all its bestows.
Wonder of heroic wealth by its absolute power trace,
image simulation molded and caught in transcendental space.
The dream weaver holds the levitating rotating globe at hand,
destinies favorite muse conducting with the magical wand.
The law of loves beauty in its own delicate retrospect,
never looses its enchanting wonder and surprise effect.
The castle of indomitable presence and sacred ground,
the worst of worst for recuperation found.
Shared stories sensing itself to the turning point of matter,
creating synchronized universes distinctive blue and flatter.
Seeing clearly know for all makes perfect sense,
the tincture of spheres colliding with residue of love immense.
Shallow strands; slumber's token
Veiled words subconsciously spoken
Dark window to inner being broken
Pent-up desires from entomed depths awoken
New pathways from psyche's cluttered road pared
Surrealistic vistas sculpted, with well-worn peaks paired
Imaginative streams by conscious's reservoir snared
Nightmares flood overloaded circuits, subliminal fears bared
Fantasies flow through refurbished conduits, delightful impulses shared
Time's burdensome mantra refused
Spatial limitations are excused
Yesterday's sorrows, actions with today's sense of urgency infused
Today's sentiments, yesterday's deeds are synchronically fused
Tomorrow's presentiments are tethered to present cares then defused
Dream Weaver
The weaver sits before the threshold of the daystar
Upon a carpet dyed in ebony spread across an alabaster porch,
Hidden by a cape of ivory shimmers,
In between twilight’s caress and the palest blush of dawn,
To gather from the floor of slumber’s tent, and far pavilions,
Starlight threads of lacy midnight raptures
And cobwebs mystery floating through deep scars of laughter
Before the matins glowing door calls sleepers come away
From silent symphonies of solitude
Or whispering shivers of echoes returning
To scatter remnants of midnight dances
When the weaver’s hand swiftly guides the flying shuttle
To bind the fragile luminescent strands -
Silver silent tears next to mornings’ strong resolve,
New hope in borning green,
White hot strands - convictions passion -
Bound forever next to nightmares, braided chords of shimmery,
Dark secrets spoken only in between chords of sunlit days
Rosy remembrance woven overall
With light speed pushing warp and woof pulling tangled dreams apart
Forever woven into midnight’s mantle of translucent silken patterns
Worn closest to the spirit’s metaphor,
Light as cloud ships on a summer wind song
Bold and strong as visionary glimpses of eternity,
In flowing rhythms and textures irony emerging
Worn upon the mantle’s visage,
A maze of multi-colored hues scattered through the cloth -
A pattern of the mystic scheme –
A portrait of the soul emerging
From the weaver waiting at the threshold
Of the silver dawning sunset, reflections faithful servant,
Eternal guardian of the misty portico
Where the weary pilgrim passes on the twilight breezes
Welcomed as a child bringing home garlands woven in the sunlight,
Wreaths of memory crowning time,
Carrying in their hands brilliant threads to bind -
To rest again in the lullaby of stillness
While the weaver listens to the humming
Of sweet slumber’s singing loom
To weave a cloth of dreams.
The big bang theory is overwritten,
then the dream weaver gave us illusion to be smitten.
Rational thoughts in metaphysics science concludes,
mathematical proof with its astonishing effect interludes.
Thesis of melting mozzarella galaxies become a degree,
omnivarcities playing relativities monopoly.
The nerd’s comic book philosophies have endless pages,
societies applause and rewards with scientific titled wages.
When nucleus and electrons play imaginary ping pong,
it takes a wizard to know what is wrong.
Then the law of Pythagoras states that half eggs do not roll,
as gravity and centrifugal objectives have its toll.
All inferior struggle combined have its expressions,
taken brother Grimm’s stories to new invention as obsession.
Non existent ego’s are in desperate need to proof,
that black holes are the center of the macaroni far above.
While the Andromeda bubble just popped by an idea,
new planets are on its way take away all fear.
Enthusiasm and exiting possibilities to face,
relatives like tiny earth in cosmic space.
Gods grace and sensitive great humor parody,
in the eternal divine comedy.
Was the petite faerie truly caught or was was staying in the web her choice?
The curious puffed up spider hesitated upon seeing her in his web.
Her face reflected an anticipation, not a bit of fear.
As if she was waiting to commune and exchange pleasantries.
Cream haired faerie turned, sensing the creature’s footsteps.
This is the most exquisite web work I have ever observed, she whispered.
Can you please teach me how?
The spider moved closer,
recognizing the awe and reverence of another weaver.
A dream weaver, like himself.
He decided to keep her.
There was much teaching to be done.
I gave you my heart
thought this would be the start
of the journey that would lead us
to 'till death do us part.
But I was a fool,
a damn fool who had to learn
my sincere love for you
would never be returned.
When I met you
I thought my dreams had come true.
I loved you so much
I literally would've died for you.
But I was a fool,
a damn fool who you trained
who you taught in your el yes
love is nothing more than a game.
You were a liar and a deciever,
an unremorseful cheater,
a heartbreaker and hope destroyer,
not a dream weaver.
But I was a fool,
a damn fool who had to learn,
the longer I stayed with you,
the more times I'd get burned.
Yes,
I was your fool,
a damn fool who had to learn,
nothing would ever change,
till I made the tables turn.
Then God intervened,
came to me in a daytime dream,
reminded me I'm too blessed
to be this stressed,
and it's time I split this scene.
God whispered, "be no man's fool,
take my hand and I'll help you learn,
he's not worth your time,
he's too ignorant to discern,
that you are a woman of worth,
the salt of the earth,
a diamond meant to shine,
a thinking man's new birth,
you are no man's fool".
Yes,
I was your fool,
and the key word is WAS.
Shhh! Comes night, time tunnel enters
into my mind at rapid speed ;
and from the click of the dream weaver
my body is brought to nowhere land :
out there, a galaxy hangs beyond clouds
as unknown strangers pop, following
my footsteps on through darkened byway...
A Lady In White grips my quivering hands;
her face eyeless as if in a ghastly trance,
this trance costing my soul to rip in awe:
I bleed non-stop , yelling upon a rope
of thorns as foggy shadows flutter.
Pulsing , the Lady assaults this subconscious
fog living inside my id, my ego , as if
to wake past thoughts needing release
but denying final closure from deep hurt.
Lo, phantom come, breathe out the fear.
For Line Gauthier's Contest: A Stunner January 2018
3/16/2018
"Fly me high through the starry skies
Maybe to an astral plane
Cross the highways of fantasy
Help me to forget today's pain"- A stanza from Gary Wright's "Dream Weaver"
In dreams that drift as surely as the sand
along the banks of oceans in my mind,
he wanders in, and with his skillful hand,
adds shape and hue to scenes yet undefined.
I never know what feelings he’ll invoke,
what things I’ll touch or taste or hear or see.
He makes – with every interlacing stroke
of brilliant yarns – enthralling imagery!
He weaves me in with people or alone -
in states of bliss. . . at times in peril’s way!
Another twist . . . I wear a face unknown
or soar! The unexplained I can’t gainsay.
Awake, I little know of fancy’s flight,
for Weaver thrives in shadows of the night.
For Brian Strand's 'ALL YOURS (May 16)' Poetry Contest
May 2, 2021
For Line Gauthier's What's In A Title In 14-20 Lines Poetry Contest