Dream of Old
I have dreams of the days of old,
I was a brilliant yellow grasshopper in the spring.
You were the rusted, iron anchor of a voyage ship.
Together we were the phasing moon and the burning sun.
We danced through the scorching days.
We fell through the tumbling leaves.
We huddled during the merry singing.
We sailed down the unfrozen veins of our country.
We moved to the land of the bison
to build a place of our own heart.
The land was rocky and brittle.
Nothing but our power was to change it.
We molded the land into riches.
The flowers bloomed as we did.
The trees' skin thickened and callused,
the trees grew with the passing of time.
You were strong and willing,
while I was fearful and attached.
You sang me to sleep with sweet lyrics,
and I could never leave the safety of your arms.
That fateful morning the sun weaved between cotton
and the church bells stopped ringing.
I was numb from fright
and you were dazed by the news.
They asked you to put on the uniform.
You answered with grace and pride,
so you would travel half of the world.
I was to be left behind, without you.
I knew who you were,
a man of tradition
like your father before you.
You knew of peace, were made of loyalty.
I wailed that night in your arms.
You did not sing brightly,
rather you spoke to me.
You made promises, filling me with hope.
You said that those land wear scared,
they were intoxicated with tears and hatred.
With your help would bring back the riches
and you would make the people and the flowers bloom again.
You would go then come back to me.
You were not theirs,
you rightfully belonged to me.
You were my soul and my heart.
So you marched to broken lands
with a rifle resting at your shoulder.
You saluted with your head held high
and they walk beside you with the same idea.
I did not wave
for I could not say goodbye.
I prayed for the day of your lively return,
I knew one day I would hold your warm hands.
Hades tortured you with all his might.
You wrote about flying machines
and streaks of fire in the sky.
Said that the sky never stopped crying for the dying men.
Your knees sank deep within mother earth,
she covered you from your head to your ankles.
I fell to my knees for you,
because a better world was meant for you.
You were gone infinite moons.
I grew to become a willow.
Loneliness knocked at my door,
on a day so gray and cold,
that there was a strange poignancy.
You would never sing to me again.
You laid looking to the sky.
They brought you home to me.
Now you lay cold in the ground,
a stone marking your place.
I stand here talking to you.
I need to hear you sing once more.
I am still afraid,
I lost my heart and soul.
The truth is that I can stay afloat,
I wander the oceans
in need of an anchor,
but I lost my anchor long ago.
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Submitted on November 04, 2020
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 2:40 min read
- 12 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | A B X C X X B D C E X X F X A X B X X G C B H X X X X I J C I D G D D X X X F K D X D E L J M X X M X L H X M K X X I I X N O A D K M D X X I O X X X X J N |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 2,717 |
Words | 535 |
Stanzas | 78 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1 |
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"Dream of Old" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/59267/dream-of-old>.
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