Dreaming in poetry

 

Into those satin-like

sweeping words, I fall.

Blissfully they enthral me,

enchanting me tightly

in their shrouding blanket. Longingly,

I've started to dream in poetry,

it's a little weird at first,

it comes without warning.

You awaken in a world

synonyms tweeting,

a metaphorical flurry

to the white fluffy pillows

dancing across the blue windows

of a summers morning.

Rhymes meandering

alongside verdant verandas

of vast countryside.

 

Your feet begin to disintegrate

into tiny little verses,

propelling you forward,

across the universe's

grandest sights.

Words twinkling, bright,

and a thousand glowing suns,

dials not set too high,

so the light won't blind,

just provide a nice shine,

to warm the corners

of your mind.

 

Body becomes liquid state,

then vapour as it takes

to the clouds.

I'm dreaming in poetry it's true.

Raining streams of inky blue

across the parchment ground,

slowly the streams

begin to spread around.

Across the paper,

words forming loud.

 

See, I'm dreaming

in poetry,

asleep

in its soft flowing

consistency.

For if I open my eyes,

all I see

is a world aflame.

Burning

with misery.

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle