Literary dreaming

I woke in the 1st line of a lost American novel

‘It was a dark stormy night, TV clouds loomed above the edge of a desert’

and yawned

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Dear Life (4)

…my love that I gave to you without counting
my trust that you betrayed without caring
all my dreams and all my plans
you smashed them without hesitation …

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Summer Dream

Last night
In dreams
It was Summer
In my hair
I wore a rose
I walked barefoot
Along the shore
& woke with sand
Between my toes

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Call me the Dreamweaver.
Speak my language,
And lets program,
Our sight for a beautiful tomorrow.

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one day that battered old suitcase,
home to battered old books,
living under the bed
will be emptied, filled
and used again.

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I don’t need to provoke
such dreams
of fusion and folly or
abstract togetherness,
Our wish is our aspiration.

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how our expectations
rise with the sun..
and our unfulfilled dreams
with the moon…

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