The world inside my dreams.

My eyes, they see not the things they wish to;
a solitary bluff of green grass topped by a tree,
with rolling fields of grain and wild horses roaming.
An intoxicating world, a playground for you and me.

These things I say I wish to see have been hidden or killed off by us,
A rushed society of material things with factories spilling smoke.
Our engines that we make, they pollute us too.
We must take this problem more seriously, for it's really not a joke.

Our ancestors, they called our home a land of virgin soil.
They said also that our lands would yield bountiful crops; and so they did.
And I say did, for our land is drying out, for we have misused it.
Things like this I did not notice when I was just a kid.
But now I do.

And now I only see these things in my peaceful dreams.
These dreams of spacious meadows, of gently blowing wind.
The quiet world of forests and unpolluted streams
and I dread the moment of daybreak at which time my dreams must end.

I long to see these things again, the things I've never seen,
I wish to go at least once again to where I've never been.
To my world of forests with gently flowing streams,
the world I love so very much, the world inside my dreams.
P~ 4-15-86

I had to chuckle as I transcribed this to the blog. I wrote so dramatically didn't I? "For this'', and "for that..." oh well, I was 15 and in 9th grade. I Guess I was a bit of a greenie before it was vogue huh? I had to fight the temptation to edit and change the way the poem read. I think I could re-write it better, but it is what it is, I want to document it as such. Maybe some time in the future I'll get back to it.

Hope you like.
P~