DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

bluntb4be:

 

Dream a little dream for me.

Soar to the clouds and

Join your colorful friends.

Spread a little fairy dust.

Follow your dreams

To far away lands.

Dream a little dream for me.

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A DEAD MAN’S DREAMS

 

Walk through the gates.

A palace awaits.

Deserted it may be,

nothing is free.

The marble floors sparkle with light

through rooms of magic & delight.

Rooms furnished from the past

come alive as we walk past.

A dead man’s dreams of hope,

a man with no life or scope.

Only in darkness, he may survive.

Too bad he’s dead & not alive.

He waits for the end of time

in a house built on a rhyme.

THE DEAD GAME

MAGIC

Suburban witch

 

 

MAGIC

 

The new spring blooms colors.

But who even bothers

to breathe the sweet air?

I don’t have a care.

My car fails to start,

a walk in the park.

I raise my small hand.

Gone is the quicksand.

I race down the hill,

a heavenly thrill.

Shocked faces turn to me.

Only houses I see.

 

IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT

Haunted House on hill

Source: parallaxwallpapers

The house sits alone.

Night after night.

Ghosts in its walls.

Demons below its floors.

It waits for the night.

When the moon bleeds red.

Nature becomes silent.

And shadows walk tall.

Lights shine through its windows.

Sounds creep up from its basement.

We’ve come to play.

In The Dead of night.

THE DEAD GAME

http://myBook.to/TheDeadGame
http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

THE TREE

1 The Tree

The tree spreads its limbs wide
to absorb the light of the sun.
Its leaves glow in the waning afternoon light.
Soon the sun will leave yellow trails
around the tree’s massive trunk
as it sets for the day.
The shadows grow longer.
The colors become dimmer.
The sun bows its head goodbye.
Looming shadows signal the next stage.
The glow of the moon takes centerstage.
The tree spreads its limbs wide
to absorb the light of the rising moon.

ONLY HOUSES I SEE

witch

The new spring blooms colors.

But who even bothers

to breathe the sweet air?

I don’t have a care.

My car fails to start,

a walk in the park.

I raise my small hand.

Gone is the quicksand.

It races down the hill,

the most heavenly thrill.

Shocked faces turn to me.

Only houses I see.