Blossoms from a Long-lost Past
Last night I dreamt
of dreamers dancing in the dark,
of lovers true,
who sighed in some secluded park.
I dreamt the smell
of blossoms from a long-lost past.
I dreamt it well
to make those moments true and fast.
And then, when day
was just about to make its start,
I woke. And cried
a sacred poem from my heart.
A fluid drop
of meter, accent, words and rhyme,
that trickled to
this page, this day, and to these times.
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Creative Writing: Blossoms from a Long-lost Past
This poem is a few years old, but I've never quite gotten it right. It's better now than when I started, but I'm not satisfied with it yet. I was still tweaking it 5 minutes before I posted this.