Dreams That Died Before Growing Old

In misty churches of my dreams
I reunite with dead family members;
A storm is coming, do they mean
To stay together: nothing's as it seems.

In dreams are things that might make sense
And other things that are there by chance,
But who can sort the living and dead;
A dream is like a hypnotic trance.

I awaken, and the past rears up,
I see where the dry rot's taken hold-
Emotions that were never processed-
And dreams that died, before growing old.

by Patti Masterman

Comments (4)

It is only a fool who issues an ultimatum. t x
Namasthe Ivor Sir, can you please tell her a little more loud.. Ultimatum...title scared me but it is a bit sober..I read your deadly serious even today.. it is a master piece....... I respect 10 Rema
Hey! have you been seeing my muse behind my back! ! ! ! :) nice stuff.
Splendid muse.... perhaps your could send a message to mine.... return.