The Dream

This poignant poem was written by Martin Silvester …. 

Martin has just published a book of poems,  called Last Apple On The Tree.

The Dream

A girl had a dream a long time ago,
Which has stayed in her heart, beating fast, beating slow.
She dreamt of a boy with care in his eyes,
And no room in his heart for deceit and lies.

She became a woman as she walked life’s road,
Sometimes she crept and sometimes she strode.
And the dream stayed with her as she fought life’s fight,
As she tried so hard to do things right.

Life seemed to be all rush and tear,
And she went so fast, she got nowhere.
She put her heart on her sleeve, for the one by her side,
And endured agony as it curled and died.

The pain was almost too much to bear,
When she reached out her arms, there was no one there.
So when all others were fast asleep,
She’d dream her dream, and weep and weep.

So this girls life seemed signed and sealed,
She felt all alone, in a fenced in field.
The future seemed so bleak and bare,
Oh where was this man who would share and care?

So the clouds moved on in a steel blue sky,
While the sun shone down, from its throne on high.
As the girl turned her ear to the wind at play,
She heard him call from far away.

With her memories in a box or two,
She walked away with a dream as a clue.
And she felt so bad as the days rolled by,
And the tears on her cheek just would not dry.

As she stumbled and lurched from kiss to kiss,
She came to know the viper’s hiss.
And as fates sweet hand pushed her to and fro,
She still could not see, the way to go.

Her heart sank deep in a dark black hole,
And guilty self pity attacked her soul.
But she climbed back up towards the light,
As she realised, that she had been right.

Then shocked as a rabbit in a headlights beam,
She came face to face with her lifelong dream.
And her heart swelled with joy that he did exist,
He was everything that she’d always missed.

So they talked and talked and she laughed and cried,
And her inner self didn’t have to hide.
And his quiet words-like a sacred prayer,
Withdrew her soul from its gloomy lair.

What comes next? Well no one knows,
What will be will be, as Father Time flows.
And as the process goes on, of repair and mending,
The girl MUST believe in her happy ending.

© Martin Silvester 15/5/15.