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An Illusion
by Michael R. Burch

The sky was as hushed as the breath of a bee
and the world was bathed in shades of palest gold
when I awoke.

She came to me with the sound of falling leaves
and the scent of new-mown grass;
I held out my arms to her and she passed

into oblivion ...

NOTE: This is one of my early poems, written around age 16 and published in my high school literary journal, The Lantern. ?Keywords/Tags: illusion, illusory, dream, mirage, morning, fantasy, awakening, waking up, oblivion
Alarm sounds,  I wake ⏰
Ready to take on the day! ✊
... five more minutes please....😴
Strangely enough, now that I have nowhere to be during the day... I've been waking up snap! With my alarm good and awake... figures... X'D
So far I'm enjoying being temporarily jobless as much as I can but this is a big problem for a lot of people so I hope everyone will look out for your neighbors if you got them...
Silver notes ringing
The Rising Moon is singing
A sweet lullaby...

Wind Whispers through trees
Secrets on the midnight breeze
Swirling around me...

The sun softly glows
Kissing my cheeks as I doze
Waking me gently...
This was written for my 2019 dream journal I can almost hear it as a song it would make a good lullaby ...I don't always title my poems when I write them... especially these dream journal ones and I have a slight aversion? to titling them using an exact word from the poem... it happens sometimes but I like to avoid it ...so when Consulting Google for another word for lullaby I ran across the French word for it and amused myself by inadvertently coming up with the title all together in French without realizing it was actually in French X'D I had to check in Google Translate and sure enough it was in fact French... hahaha I wonder how many languages I know tiny bits of and don't realize it... X'D
Fleur Feb 20
It’s morning! Finally morning on the even ebb of eve.
The tides! The marina’s tides are thick like wicker’s weave.

What sand has shifted? What news from Diego’s dawn?
From covers; the bark of seals sing like a bay yacht’s yawn.

Dinghy docks and pristine clamor; now I hear the bells!
No, not the toll it takes, but just the charm it spells.

I orient, I wake. I’m quick to smile; the sun follows suit.
Searching south; the daily buzz on right, and left: a bay that’s mute.

But the sound’s not snuffed, you see, motors have plenty to spare.
Because whether or not you knew or noticed, the navy never seems to care.

Compelled and called from my fruitful rest; muesli munched with jams.
These charts and graphs I take with me while I brew my grind of grams.
A cozy meditation on my morning routine. A little slice of life when the sun comes up in my neck of the woods. I feel warm and safe when I hear those seals. (Sometimes even in the middle of the night!)
little lion Jan 24
I wonder if I'll ever know what it feels like
to wake up each morning
to a life
that's actually worth living.
J Dec 2019
She is but a dream;
a dream that would not fade,
even long after waking up.
And will remain a dream.

A meager attempt after a long break.
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