Dream, Poetry, Writing

Words from a dream

pumpkinfrostI had a dream about my first critique group, it was weird as dreams are, and I woke up with words on my mind. I listened. They had no obvious connection to the dream; they were just the beginning of the following poem. So, I wrote them down and, after a moment, the rest followed. When the thought was complete, the connection became clear to me. That’s not important to you, but maybe you’ll get something from the poem anyway.

 

Now, but oh …

There is frost on the pumpkin now,
but oh …
I remember summer.

Pink gold dawns
of dewy silence,
sigh and stretch and linger.

White bright noon
with chattering girls,
hopes and fears and laughter.

Dark hot nights
under dreamy boy,
lips and tongues and splendor.

There is frost on the pumpkin now,
but oh …
I remember summer.

 

Copyright © 2009 Linda Cassidy Lewis

25 thoughts on “Words from a dream”

  1. Lovely poem. I remember when I used to wake up with words on my mind. Now I go to sleep in a state of exhaustion and barely remember my dreams.

    I notice you’re already kicking my butt in the cleaning challenge. In my defense I had a busy day, but tomorrow I plan to turn on the burners (especially because you’re all coming to my house on Tuesday).

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    1. You might get more sleep if you didn’t feel compelled to write ten novels a year … or three at a time! 😀

      And my dash out of the gate was husband inspired. I will no doubt lag behind today.

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  2. I love this poem! I love the music in this: “Pink gold dawns of dewy silence, sigh and stretch and linger.” That is beautiful in terms of its imagery and the sound and play of the words themselves.

    So glad you decided to try your hand at poetry!

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    1. No, no, no, Danielle, you cannot apply such a word to this! It pales, it turns ghostly, in comparison to yours. You have the ability, in such a few words, to delve deeply under the surface, like your current cinquain “Pumpkin Envy.”

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  3. love this whole piece – the writing before the poem as well – making connections, starting. Especially “dewy silence” a good set up for the nostalgic feeling that this piece delivers.

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  4. That was awesome, Linda. Brilliant word pictures, captured in short, potent lines. I’m sort of your mirror image — I went from a place where winter is short and warm to a place where it’s the same as the election/voting process — early and often. It stays too long, wears out its welcome, then leaves folks scrambling for their piece of sun-worship.

    And in the dregs of that white wasteland, they often remember summer. The larger metaphor for life captured in the stanza about the boy and the lips and tongue … well, which of us doesn’t smile whimsically at the memories those lines bring to the surface? 🙂

    Bravo!

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