Dream struck

The richness of the roses in the fields

Keep me awake at night in Dreamland.

The moonlight through the fields and

The crimson fluffy dress

Are a sight for eager eyes.

Weeping willows sob stories.

The tears are fluorescent in the beginning of twilight.

The garden isn’t enclosed anymore.

It stretches for miles and birds sing and vines

Slip through the soil and a heart is

Pulsating for what feels as if the first time.

My how a treasure the landscape blooms love

After salty tears had wiped away the possibility.

Oh how the lake fills the trenches

And I am anxiously swimming to the precipice where the visions meet.

Quietly I am anticipating the slow wakefulness that eventually comes.

Here, the hopes are not impractical.

They are just misplaced.

Oh the richness of the roses in Dreamland!

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