The Dreamer

She dreams of houses in the hills,
Away from all the city lights—
Of daisy fields and daffodils,
She derives such great delight.
By day she makes an honest wage,
Shucking corn beneath the sun—
By night, she dreams of better days,
Of golden fields and olden fun.
Oh, how she longs for brighter days...
When the sound of music filled the air;
Where children used to laugh and play,
And they would sing without a care.
But that was long before the war...
Before she lost her eldest son;
Things are so much different now.
Life used to be so fun.
So, she dreams of greener grasses,
And the smell of sweet molasses—
She dreams of houses in the hills,
Made of honeydew and sassafrases.
She finds solace in her memories,
On a perfect little piece of mind—
Providing her a sanctuary,
A shelter from the world, unkind.
Written by NewBeginnings
Author's Note
I wasn't entirely happy with this one, but I think I'm just nitpicking :)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 22 reading list entries 11
comments 15 reads 139
crimsin monkeyman DevilsChild magichearts unnifaomsl Summerrain75 solanaceae Honoria InDreamz KristinaX Bawaga
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 4:13pm by case28
Today 3:50pm by case28
Today 3:49pm by MalcolmJThePoet
Today 3:00pm by DaisyGrace
Today 1:53pm by lepperochan