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The possible dream

I remember looking up,
holding your big hand;
the moon large and bright

just like it is tonight --

we walked hand in hand
as we talked of dreams
and visiting far away lands.


I remember looking down
at my shoes, hands on my lap
as I was told to apply myself --

just hunker down;

I alone had to make my path
no talk of dreams or wishes
until the work before me was done.


I've had a certain longing;
of pinings in misty recollection,
while tomorrow held no more wonder.

If things beyond reach are like that moon;
then teach me to dream the possible dream.

 

◄ Curiosity killed no cat

Midday Plea ►

Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 31st Dec 2013 17:32

The recent poems are zeroing in with great intensity and intimacy, universally relate-able, and 'polished'. Keep posting.

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Rose Casserley

Sun 22nd Dec 2013 23:01

definitely ditto previous comments.
Well done Frederick.x

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Isobel

Sat 21st Dec 2013 09:43

I can see this from both sides - the parent's and child's. As a parent you do want your child to buckle down and make the most of themselves - it's such a hard life otherwise. There has to be a balance though - some space left for dreams.

I'm quite horrified by the way children from Asian cultures are led by the nose through the whole education system. They might well be highest in the world league tables, but at what cost? It must be absolutely soul destroying to go through such discipline if you are a free spirit.

If things beyond reach are like that moon;
then teach me to dream the possible dream

I find your last two lines incredibly sad. x

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Shirley Smothers

Fri 20th Dec 2013 17:58

This really speaks to me. It is so close to home. I too sometimes feel my dreams have gone astray.

Well written.

Shirley

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