Dreams are the same,
Cheats like the above blue,
Which dream I dreamt
Has dreamt its blue dream?
Every inch of its
Plethora causes a tumult,
Being it in the sanctum sanctorum
Of the temple top wishes.
March may come and
Join with May,
Like an April,
I stand a fool.
Dreams at heart,
Wishes at the brow,
Future deep in eyes,
And it’s a tarnished dream,
Can’t get its way,
Even to a distance,
Where vision plunges.
And who can read my poetry?
Who can judge
The depth of its inner intensity?
I can write an elegy,
But who shall I show it to?

5 thoughts on “Dreams

  1. Louis Kasatkin

    I particularly liked the “March may come and join with May, Like an April I stand a fool”. That certainly put an unexpected spin on it.If poems were a part of Cricket then this poem’s delivery had the innate trickery of a googly.Well bowled!

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