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Array
(
[sid] => 80062
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => To Him Who Sleeps
[time] => 2005-01-16 04:17:01
[hometext] => This poem is not only written about a dream, but in third person view and also is like a dream, it is disjointed and weird.
[bodytext] => As he gazes out over the vast emptiness that surrounds him, A cold breeze runs its fingers across his face. The reminder of the day before still remains deep within. Not sure how or why or where he was in this place. A sudden realisation comes over him of falling down. Every emotion he went through came for the fall. With a thump he hit the bottom and was left on his own. Nothing to see, not a soul in sight, and no one to call. How or why he ended here he still does not know. Only to see nothing in front or behind or either side. Vast emptiness but now he hears the sound of a flow. Rising to his feet he follows the sound, is it a tide? The sound is louder now and he can just see it. A river flowing making its way somewhere. Could it take him to a place he should stand or sit? All that he knows is he wants to get there. He follows the river that is swift, strong, and wild. Soon he will be there at this river’s end. Will it be near the ocean or meet with another that is mild? Will it be long or is it just round the bend? Before he can get there he is lifted up and carried away. Floating and soaring and flying around. Then thump, again he comes down again in a new day. Back down to earth and now wide awake on the ground. He rubs his eyes and familiar sights he does see. His pillow and sheets and bed on the floor. He wondered what just happened and why could it be? It was just a dream, and forgotten now, as he opens the door. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 179 [topic] => 25 [informant] => friend7299 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => MiscPoems )
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