An inexpensive dream
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This is a poem about a lonely poor street child who dreams each night of a nice home with mother nd siblings.
My head held to the dark skies
and I see not the stars swing a rope
for would it not today dance to me in disguise
and would it not let me sing in hope,
the darkness to whom I befriend, much than the blue day of despise
and would it not as yesterday, play to my desire,
and bring for me in my tired eyes, a gleeful surprise.
To my fancy, I wonder away, lying below the twinkled bay
Where, I have a house, and oh yes it is mine,
and I live here, and I live my own pleasured way.
Where the tiles above me, on the ceiling shine,
the woods through the windows, bring for me the chimes.
Where the comfort of the cozy fire, and the bread of the privileged dine
bring no contest, and bring no labor.
I lay my head on my mothers lap, to her calm comfort,
as her hands curl my qualms away,
and the fire warms from the hearth.
Where the siblings sport the joys through the day
and this togetherness is a bliss,
where the sleep of the tired eyes, spills the fun, this night
over the smiling white moonlight.
For away from this darkness, there would be the day,
Where the streets would be again,
as lone, and the struggles again, and where life would be a again,
where, life’s about pennies, that counts in pay.
and my fate deceit, and fate feign.
And each day, in hope I wait
for the darkness, after the sun and after the strive,
where my mother waits for a hug to gather me in to her hive,
and the moon in crescent calls me in delight,
greeting me home tonight…
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Comments
The dream that you mentioned in this poem is fantastic bcoz for a moment I feel that I am poor child of that dream.
hmmmmmmm………..you are right, but the word aspiration is sometimes interchanged with inspirations.
But thanks anyways………
good one, but dream is dream for poors and when some poors convert their dreams into the reality-they become Dhiru Bhai Ambani.
Not everybody is as lucky as Ambani but it is good to dream, this provides the necessary motivation.
You have very beautifully expressed the basic desire of every man - to have a solid roof over one’s head, basic security of life comes from this. Congratulatios!!
Poetry is Fun, playing around with words and somebody Else's Emotions and topics and sometimes playing around with your own experience and emotions.
So Isn't poetry a fun game.............you play with the world in a few lines.
This one is a beauty too…
Not just because its written for the poor child but a desire that most of have to have our own little place that we could call home…With property prices going beyond reach, its a dream for them too…
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