Beneath an overcast of ashen trees,
I dreamt of walking through vanilla fields
Again, where Frosty and I played that day,
Before giddy gnomes kidnapped him away
Like stolen fruit returned to the garden.
I lay listening to whooshes of wind
Hurdling through as the tempest gave chase
To native ghosts once all so commonplace.
Next, I lent my ears to the echoes of
Raindrops crashing to ripples of pond,
That doused my curiosity ablaze,
Not to mention an evening of charades
I’d played with the siren who asked me to
Tickle her luscious firs and lonely loins
Before treading upon her demure fallow.
Now, ambivalent forces swept o’er me,
Like a tsunami of storied battles
'Tween wishful thinking and reality.
A crestfallen mood I found myself in,
Now awakened by an epiphany—
Have my nocturnal fixations come to an end?
(Honorable Mention-Best Poem, Medlennium Literary Journal Spring 2001)
© February 28, 2001
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