… for writers, anyway.
Dreams of worlds spun from words, of hope or despair, the long reach of love, loneliness too cruel to bear.
Dreams. How we dream of capturing an essence, from the first flash of flirtation to the final exhalation of breath. Dreams of life grown sweet, built upon fragrant tendrils of desire. All crafted by words, only words, simple words, dreams of worlds.
Tangible dreams. She once dared to love. But no more. Never more. Whisper it here. Fiery tears burn. Forever.
Terrible dreams, terror scraped loose by bloodied hands. Shadows move then grow still.
Sorrowful dreams heap guilt upon the innocent, innocence onto those made in sin. Heroes fight and may fall.
Glorious dreams give voice to the whales to fly free in deep skies. Teach us respect… and honor… and...
…dreams. Do you dream of worlds spun from words?
by Janet Fogg