The Dream House

This poem was actually based on a dream!

The Dream House

Last night I was by the dream house once more
Large old rambling house, and solid oak door
Larger than her real house, so many rooms
And from many chimney pots, smoky fumes
I stood outside, in my escape into night
While from windows came flickering light
Gas mantles hissed, gave soft golden glow
While where I stood, a breeze began to blow
Branches swaying gently, an owl hooting
In the night sky, flickers, stars shooting
The sweet summer air, of night scented stock
And I came to the door, put key in the lock
And I opened the door, and went inside
Into a hall way, so very long and wide
And my Annie was there, alive, and well
I did not think of how, or what was the spell
That made this so: in a dream, you just accept
The sleeping mind forgets how you once wept
So many tears, the pain in the heart, such ache
You forget in sleep all that you know awake
And we gazed at the stars together, met friends
But all dreams come to their appointed ends
And I awoke, the room, dark, and cloudy skies
In waking moments, the dream fades and dies
And falling asleep, the same old mansion there
But this was later: no Annie to hold now dear
Her absence palpable: we mourned once more
As if someone had now closed an open door
And when I woke once more, a sense of loss
But one day, the door will open and I will cross
Into that ancient mansion, and come to stay
My heart’s desire: to follow that way.