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               AWAKENINGS



Drawn into the morning by kiss of the sun

touching the pillow through curtains undone,

lids weighing heavy on cheeks cradled deep,

struggling to surface from oceans of sleep.

Memories of dream figures linger, then fade;

sprites of the night that played out their charade

melt into mist, deliquesce with the night,

their essence yet stirs a vague sense of delight.

Fingers of slumber releasing their hold,

awareness returning from fantasy's fold,

mind groping groggily, findind the way

to face all life's problems that come with the day.



Through sleeptime of childhood run imaginings wild,

sweet fancy's cradle is the heart of a child.

A dreamer of dreams, he drifts with the tide,

cares not where he's going, he's along for the ride,

mind filled with moonshine, fantasies flowing,

he gives little thought where tomorrow is going.

Awakening's a struggle, a groping to see;

dreams shattered by daylight become just memory,

echoes of childhood he'll treasure and keep

filed away fondly as visions of sleep.

With yesterday's reveries melted away

he must face all life's problems that come with the day.