Poetry

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My Wee Little Dreams

My dear little dreams,
My wee lovely hopes,
Like the mighty handsome ships,
Cruising ‘pon the waves,
That churn the oceans so!
By the rocks over yaller,
The ships die in pieces.

My visions like the meteors,
That light up my nights,
Setting heavens alight,
If, but only for a while.
Like the old threshers chaff,
They, too, bite the dust.

My troubles are in vain,
My day is all but pain,
The dawn brutal and cold,
And the noon burns a scald.
Where has gone the bird,
That whistled me a ballad?

The sun’s hot and high
Though rivers just pass by
Of dreams that’ll die
Mirages that do lie,
And hopes will soon dry
Wilted,
In the breeze they will fly.



WidemanPoetry2002
[email protected]

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