My Dreams Come

Allison Grayhurst


My Dreams Come


I move and lose my frame

of ultimate freedom. Into

immobile dreams, and growing

fast are the fantastic blossoms of my mind.

As the hard core challenge

gets tucked in my socks

like a saved coin for tougher days,

I get weak with the demands on my shelf,

lazy in my intent though still I am

loved. Loved, but lost again and not at the

potential I am asked to uphold.


The sound rises in my ear. I put more

pillows under my head. I see the TV light

blind the brighter one beneath my bed.


I won’t touch the crown or the things of great seed

until my excuses and ways to crawl under

are called to task and asked by me

                                           to permanently, irrevocably




Copyright © 2004 by Allison Grayhurst




First published in “Our Poetry…

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