Fantastic, Unpleasant And Horrible.

I was a sleep and having a fantastic dream,
Where only I can go, there are no other people,
I must make them up you know,
Where do they come from?
Why are they in my head?
Why is there a strange storyline?
At night while I’m in bed,
My dreams are so vivid they seem so real,
Sometimes I wake delighted and sometime I could squeal,

I had one dream, where I was an angel,
dressed in pure white, doing summersaults,
that was a fantastic night,
I woke in a wonderful mood; it was a delicious, delightful day,

Then I have had a dream about Frankenstein,
And I felt down and tired all day,
He was trying to get to me through my window,
Why, I have no idea, but I woke up in a sweat
and a state of anger and fear.

On the whole my dreams are good,
Which is a good thing for me,
I’d hate to keep having bad dreams,
That would be unpleasant and horrible!
I'm sure you would guarantee.

by Pamela lutwyche

Comments (1)

Dreams are indeed versatile as described in this poem.