***
curious quality
of
the dream
where all things
are possible
***
***
alive
and
fluttering
the butterfly
within
***
the
dream
lives
in the tales
that are told
***
***
only when
she could entertain
a mind picture
then
she could understand
***
singing lullabyes
the unknown voice
lulled her to sleep
it
watched over her
***
***
a tear
found
its path
winding
down her cheek
***
the words
in my
head
get tired
sometimes
***
going
round the clock
the second hand
slices
fragments of time
***
the
guilt
of
the refusal
remained
***
***
the
heart
remembers
even though
the roses have faded
***
I
miss
our conversations
which were still going
when dawn broke
***
***
with every stitch
she placed
a thought
finally
the hand made doll was ready
***
she
was
not seen
so she wondered
if she were the ghost
***
***
with writing
the voices
grew quieter
they
became the stories
***
the ghost thinker
who twists
words
from
their original memory
***
***
a
constant
reminder
the past
lurking
***