There in the forest of dreams, I lost my way,
Trees whose names I knew, just nodded and swayed.
They moved aside to let me free, but I couldn’t see,
Yet to wander here, was destructive just to be.
How did I become lost in this grand array?
Was it something said, or did I hear others say.
I must break free before the dawn creeps in,
Then to another try at life, Oh where to begin.
I hear you laugh, and say you are much too old.
Another way of saying time to go, have to be bold.
No need to dally in this thicket you call a forest
I shall break free from your arms after a rest.
With me I will take your energy, my eternal trees,
There outside, no more reason to wait, I will be.
I see in my inner self, a place that welcomes me
Where thoughts and emotions, are all so free.
Thank you forest of dreams, for hiding me so well,
I have to live now, and learnt lessons, can’t you tell?
I shall take your wisdom, to journey in life out there,
You have given me hope, and sanity to care.
We will talk again when I pass by,
Just remember that it was I,
That called your name!
Comments
this is known as aging
dementia
hope you will recall better
Loved
I will give you dementia, I am sorry that you are still young enough to be able to remember how to spell the word.
Not sure whether to say thanks for your visit, but when you do a comment on the actual poem or write, it would be better than 11 words of nothing.
See it is only Sunday and a good start to the week I wonder why we bother writing pieces at all.
Take care you don't get old..
Yours Ian ..
Loved
Take care you don't get old..
Yours Ian ..
I become lost
I too do get lost
Do you think I have the ink
to over your words a line score
but I am thinking of
I become lost.....????
Loved
We become lost as we become older, the number of friends shrink to near zero, then this is where we have no one to talk with.
Should we find another to talk to we seem to grab them and imprison them so that they are ours.
I guess it is part of being old or older.
I would love to be able to walk and talk with many people, that is one thing about growing old gets you, a shrinking sphere, I suppose it will end up between you and the grave digger, or ferryman one day.
How morbid is reality lol, You take care young Bard and we will talk some more one day, if we don't leave it too long,
Yours Ian ..
i like your poem
good image of forest of dreams, (although it has been used before, nobody "owns" it totally and I think it is not a plagiarism) and your narrative in the forest. The only changes I think you might consider is:
_Oh eternal tree, to eternal trees, as to represent not a single tree but those part of the woods.
-"You have given me hope and sanity to cope and care" has too many syllables..just drop "cope", which is a bit too argot for a poem with such highly stylized language.
-Same with "what the hell do you know" too conversational in a work with high poetic stance.
But the content comes through. I don't sense any references to dementia or anything like that, just a good poem about getting on in our years...and o where to begin again with so little time and energy left...
..
Eumolpus
Thank you so very much for your advice,
As a child I would wander the woods near where I lived.
To me they were a forest, I would walk alone most times, and to me it was a forest of dreams.
The trees seemed to make a seat for me, and clearings that had lovely green grass, I did write about it a few years ago, if I find it I will republish..
I use to know where all the flowers were and their names, also the trees I knew their names.
A reflection of years ago brought forward in my age to be more than it use to be, then it was a lovely haven but now it is a place to relive stress..
Thanks again for your visit,
Yours Ian ..