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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