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Wrapped in Daydreams
- Wrapped in Daydreams -
In the fair light of daybreak, when all is so still,
I walk in the meadows, when the air is yet chill...
Wrapped up in daydreams, and visions so fair,
That I dance about in circles, where few dare!
Spinning, spinning, like the silk of spider webs...
Glistening with dew, like the sweat in my hair.
Music in the movement, that ever softly ebbs...
As the stars of night vanish with dawn's glare.
Somewhere in the symphony, I've lost myself,
A speck beneath the trees that tower all about...
Whilst my spirit is taken like a book off a shelf,
To a realm of enchantment, where fades doubt.
Too cruel, the waking from dreams golden pure,
Shining so like silver seas and a pleasant shore!
What craft have I to cross the waters so deep...
That they may as well be mountains most steep?
Too long in slumber, and how can you awaken,
When calls the day, finding you lost in the dance?
Your feet wet with dew, your mind beyond ken,
Of mortals who went not where you did prance…
You must welcome the hour with a smiling face,
And begin the day with the utmost polite grace.
But in your heart, the dreams will remain strong…
From some you'll never awake, even with a gong!
In the fair light of daybreak, when all is so still,
I walk in the meadows, when the air is yet chill...
Wrapped up in daydreams, and visions so fair,
That I dance about in circles, where few dare!
Spinning, spinning, like the silk of spider webs...
Glistening with dew, like the sweat in my hair.
Music in the movement, that ever softly ebbs...
As the stars of night vanish with dawn's glare.
Somewhere in the symphony, I've lost myself,
A speck beneath the trees that tower all about...
Whilst my spirit is taken like a book off a shelf,
To a realm of enchantment, where fades doubt.
Too cruel, the waking from dreams golden pure,
Shining so like silver seas and a pleasant shore!
What craft have I to cross the waters so deep...
That they may as well be mountains most steep?
Too long in slumber, and how can you awaken,
When calls the day, finding you lost in the dance?
Your feet wet with dew, your mind beyond ken,
Of mortals who went not where you did prance…
You must welcome the hour with a smiling face,
And begin the day with the utmost polite grace.
But in your heart, the dreams will remain strong…
From some you'll never awake, even with a gong!
Published 26th Feb 2012
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26th Feb 2012 3:45am
Daydreams are nothing more than awaking of hallucinations. It's our perception of what we want and evade what we need. I really enjoyed your write.
P.s. Goth girls are the beautiful prefect art of contrast. Spikes out. Kudos
P.s. Goth girls are the beautiful prefect art of contrast. Spikes out. Kudos
26th Feb 2012 5:07am
I'm happy you liked the poem! Quite the insightful comment too. Yes, us Goth girls are indeed quite the study in contrast. ;) There's a lot to us that many people never take the time to realize.
26th Feb 2012 5:16am
Goth is a sub-culture that I am very aware of from the big movement in the late 70's. However it dates back to the 1800's in Germany. I wrote a poem beauty without cruelity about goth girls. I am on the most part in the realm of goth. As far as my job lets. Goth is unique. We are seldom alone. We walk in pairs and stick to our own kind; for they already understand us.
26th Feb 2012 5:24am
Very beautifully said, my friend! You have the soul of a poet indeed, and the heart of a true Goth. It is also refreshing to hear from someone who knows a bit of the history too. Even many Goths themselves do not know how old the Goth movement is. I am very happy you took the time to comment upon my poems! :)
