All of us dream, but not all of us remember our dreams. They creep into our subconscious thoughts during our slumber and relieve us of the pressures of the day. Their acts play out in surreal scenes so vivid on occasion they wake us up. At other times we rise from our beds with a hazy recollection of snippets that make us blush or chuckle. We try and interpret recurring dreams, but it is only conjecture. I wrote this poem to paint a word picture of dreams.
Dream Catcher
Seeping into consciousness from
the land of Koala Queue,
a tangled mass of mystery
appears from the mist of Roo.
From a eucalyptus canopy,
where all the leaves are blue,
comes the answer to your
riddle in electro-coded goo.
The blue Koala’s whisper
travels on a turquoise wind,
and synaptic gaps convey his
thoughts to the place where
yours begin.
Dennis Price