Have you seen a dream crumble, I just did Not one sound it made, nor a mercy bid Silently and softly it shed its tears Finally unbounded from all its fears Some piercing pain I felt Something perishing and foul I smelt Some deep anguish, some stolid pain Deep in my heart, why that disdain? And when I knew, I could bear it no more One query I brought to the fore That dream, that immaculate dream was to fly Why O why then did it have to die?
Preeti Govada is a freelance writer and poet. Born and brought up in Hyderabad, she’s done her MBA in Human relations and currently resides at Mumbai with her husband and son. She’s currently working on her upcoming book which is a collection of short stories. She loves observing people around her and integrating their experiences into her short stories and poetry. Besides dabbling at cooking, she enjoys travelling, browsing the internet, reading and spending time with her family. If you’d like to connect with her, you can email her at email@example.com.
I kissed the pillows of her cheeks. Covering myself in the blanket of her caress. While here nothing is heavy. Maintaining the balance of smiles in the bed of her arms She doesn’t mind my snore, relaxed in complete comfort.
Last night I dreamed but not of Manderlay. It was instead of the Oak Ridge Cemetery, in Springfield where death evokes life. The moon bathed everything with its silvery beams making it easy to find my way through row upon
Drifting through the meadow of love On a boat above the clouds Looking down on the face of Earth Colors of a Rainbow on dusty brown Creatures running round and round Demons slaying innocent dreams A gush of red flows
Dream on all ye decedents of Kunta Boldly go wherever you dared to go Be happy ,sing aloud Hakunamatata Dream of the precious gems of Congo Dream on Africa ,Dream Mr .Kenyatta . Dream on all ye daughters of Africa