I remember a time when
That heart of yours was mine
The love that you bestowed to me
It's for that love I still pine
Every night before I go to sleep
I make certain to always pray
Each prayer I raise up to God
Ask him to lead you home someday
And when you appear at my door
And I'm giving my last last chance
I'll love you in ways undreamed
I'll give you the perfect romance
You will feel a love unknown
The way you deserve my love to be
With the love I'll give to you
You never want a day without me
SIGNIFICANT EXPERIMENTS
possible
ornamental
aphorisms
torment
inherent
ordiliness
with
incoherent
apprehensive
conventional
dissonance
problematically
formulated
in
desultory
preoccupations
underlying
undreamed
fungal
possibilities
Dreams Undreamed
If you never write
another word
will what’s written
be enough
If you never speak
another rhyme
will your Muse
in silence rust
If you never hear
another’s plea
will you bear
the selfish cost
If you never feel
another’s pain
will your dreams undreamed
— be lost
********
Aces & Eights
Luck is for losers
wish as wish may
Winds of your folly
— keep fortune at bay
********
This Instant
Stop waiting for your
just reward
the gift has come
today
Not past or future
but wrapped
inside
this moment on display
Freeing you from
reference
and statutes
that define
Presenting you
in every way
this instant
— most sublime
********
A Freer Time
Voting against ...
no longer for
Our ballots
cast in vain
The product of
a system rigged
What’s left
in hope’s disdain
Our heroes locked
inside death row
Their skeletons
remain
The remnants
of a freer time
Elections
— forcing change
(The New Room: June, 2026)
The ebony hair cascades untamed,
swirls in the stream of longing squall
on your ivory forehead canvas,
engraves the contours of your charisma.
The blue sea eyes dance with alluring waves,
butterfly lids flutter in the yearning air,
fold the void fabric of undreamed dreams,
for they drift away with the wilderness wind.
The crimson cheeks soak the rosy patina,
spreads seductive scent in luring zephyr.
Enchanted hue rippling with elusive glamour,
transfixed on your visage, entices me.
The luscious lips unfurl the rose bud,
mesmeric allure sparkles with lilac luster.
Silent words morph into pearls on petals,
radiate the flash of your last smile, I capture.
We pull into a Winding Station,
Hand the Attendant our key,
Head into the Station Inn
For a snack and Earl Grey Tea.
In less than an hour,
Our machine being oiled
The tension being adjusted
And our spring tightly coiled,
I slip the motor into gear
And we are off on our way
To the next Winding Station
One hundred miles away.
At Fifty miles an hour,
A once undreamed of rate,
Along the new Travel Road
Such a joy to navigate.
We pass Steam Waggons
Pulling their heavy loads
Along the mostly parallel
Heavy goods roads.
With canals and railways
The country is connected
And once long journeys
Take far less than expected.
The Waggoner with his lad
Pulled by their great Shire
Makes the local deliveries
Always there for hire.
Can this world be bettered
Clockwork coal and steam
Let us travel at speeds that
Were once but a dream.
The snow is falling down,
the wind blows as I stand to bury my true love;
in tears drown.
Empty inside,
oh, my true love is gone above;
he died.
I cry,
an undreamed of,
why.
The snow is falling down,
oh, my true love is gone above;
why.
In the soul, there comes faith’s promise
Stirring hearts, singing of God’s love
I believe, no doubting Thomas
This is perfect once undreamed of
Stirring hearts, singing of God’s love
Urging dreams in those who believe
This is perfect once undreamed of
Not just foolish, I’m not naive
Urging dreams in those who believe
Life is more than just facts and things
Not just foolish, I’m not naive
There comes a time when souls grow wings
Life is more than just facts and things
We’re on a journey of joy’s light
There comes a time when souls grow wings
‘Tis endless life for those who’re right
We’re on a journey of joy’s light
From within, Jesus reminds hearts
‘Tis endless life for those who’re right
We’ll feel the music when it starts
From within, Jesus reminds hearts
Keep trusting in the amazing
We’ll feel the music when it starts
Whispering love, ever praising
Keep trusting in the amazing
I believe, no doubting Thomas
Whispering love, ever praising
In the soul, there comes faith’s promise
Walking home from a party one cold night,
a man approached and not word did he say:
though, he seemed harmless I did have some fright,
silently, he gave me a rose bouquet;
I was enthralled and never felt the bite !
Oh, I seemed to be in a dreamy trance,
and we were in an old graveyard eerie:
I was aware of him and took a glance,
wanting to kiss him but I was weary;
it all seemed like an arranged happenstance !
He opened the door to an ancient crypt,
down, down, deep we entered a vintage room:
then, suddenly from his strong hold I slipped,
a tomb- but I felt no doom and no gloom;
in the silence I could that water dripped !
That night he became my eternal love,
he was a vampire and still I kissed him:
I died- but did not reach heaven above,
my life with him happy and never grim;
we have an ever undreamed of truelove !
In deepest memory
my mind escapes
to places yet journeyed
undreamed they await
In deepest memory
the future untold
awaiting unbeckoned
—the next bell to toll
(Dreamsleep Tribute To Laura Nyro: March, 2023)
He records the works of his life, the ephemera
he once scrawled onto the tissue thin,
thinking them indelible blueprints.
Most were fables told to a dying legend,
Pastimes, that were chariot wheels
for his little red wagon.
He is an inventor of sorts, an engineer
of impossibilities.
He accumulates metallurgical oddments
for mechanical artifacts
that have no purpose or point;
contrivances with strange gears.
attachments that bolt on to
only missing parts.
They are pieces of an assemblage
made to represent an unknowable idea.
He structures these devises
on the leeched rims of endless visions.
His minds darkened workshops
flicker with the light of kerosene lamps.
He needs shadows and the gleam of
yet undreamed dreams,
he needs gaslight eyes
while shaping the formless.
Nuts, bolts, levers, and steam driven
small brass sprockets
for the calibration of improbable elements
are his articles of faith.
A life he once constructed
falls apart little by little.
He now searches for stronger,
less breakable mechanisms
to put together, no matter that they
serve no purpose, other than
to girder and frame
featherweight straws in the wind.
L O V E
—————
Love…
Crosses walls-
Invites the vines-
Joins the harvest toil-
Stays, Faithful-
Speaks the ineffable-
Increases-
Offers its fruit-
Swells within-
Embroiders tapestries-
Will not pause-
Shall be
Caressed, with appreciation-
Bears forgiveness-
Sings-
Constantly is re-created-
By the touch of God-
Great as the division of
Dark from Light-
And, is actualized by the heart-
A seed in the soul,
An enduring source-
A force of all good-
To reap peace…
And at the last,
lasts longer
In undreamed-of ways.
———————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 11/7/21
Thanks be to God
Changing with each season,
voices come and go
what’s lost undreamed, ourselves demeaned,
in search of the unknown
Naked and left wanting,
fortune sires myth
impregnating its mystery
—with tales of the abyss
(Dreamsleep: October, 2021)
I’m willing to accept
that it’s all but a cloud
Memory behind me,
and draped in a shroud
I’m willing to accept
my fatality deemed
A portal indentured
—to dreams left undreamed
(Dreamsleep: July, 2021)
Lost in confusion,
distracted by tomorrow
anxiety his lover
—memory undreamed
(Dreamsleep: July, 2021)
You know it’s the end
when shadows abandon
Memory fades
as light is recalled
No longer master,
time is imploding
Wishes undreamed
—then nothing at all
(The New Room: April, 2021)
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