"Poetry & Rhymes" by William Hancock

Posts tagged “Dreams

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“Where Nothing Makes Sense”

"Where Nothing Makes Sense"

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I so wanna know her,

This woman in my dreams,

Dreaming from afar,

Like an illusion it seems.

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I want to reach out and touch her,

Caress her and more,

Feel the warmth of her skin,

As we fall to the floor.

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I want to taste her lips,

Smell her scent,

Just fade away,

Where nothing makes sense.

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In the hush of silence,

Where dreams collide,

This love that’s bound,

In these dreams of mine.

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Like an illusion it seems,

A dream from afar,

A touch never felt,

Dreams lovers,.. . we are.

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by
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image Used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/197521 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2016′

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* Inspired by.. .

            Someone very special.. .♥♫♪.  .    .

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“Broken Dreams”

Broken Dreams 1

A sliver of light,

From yonder room,

Comes from a window,

I must assume.

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Specks of dust,

On beams they slide,

Singing in glee,

Of days gone by.

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In shadows corner,

Are wandering souls,

Wooden tables,

And empty bowls.

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Once was night,

Consumed by day,

Vanishing dreams,

Just broken clay.

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Disdain memories,

Like mangled ropes,

Hanging on vines,

Of nowhere’s hopes.

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Endless sunshine,

Knocks the door,

Reflects the sadness,

And so much more.

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by
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/170118 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2015′


“Through The Curtain”

Through The Curtain

As he sat in his cold dark room,

Scratching his ear as he thought,

He peers through the curtain, towards the moon,

Remembering a life he had sought.

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He thinks of a time, and gets a grin,

Remembering his children as they played,

His wife,.. . as she kissed his chin,

Oh, those were such beautiful days.

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Why has God forsaken me so?

He asked of himself, in knots.

All are gone, and I am old,

And death comes for me not?

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Lingering, in his memories,

He looks towards a photograph,

Of an orchard full of apple trees,

A group of family as they laughed.

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His dreams are of a happier time,

When the sun had shined on his face,

Of friends and family, and drinking wine,

And kids running all over the place.

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Now he’s old, and all alone,

Everyone he loved has gone,

He waits for the day, he goes home,

To be again, with everyone.

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William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/906549 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2015′


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“This I’d Dream”

This I'd Dream

William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/623922 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′


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“Sweet Dreamer”

Sweet Dreamer (Short)

William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/687592 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′


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“Dead Asleep”

Dead Asleep - ©

As I lay here, on my bed,
Wide awake, but yet asleep.

On the floor,
An apple core,
An open door,
There is no more.

All alone, within my room,
A window sill, a door it creaks.
Am I dreaming, I’m awake,
Just lying here, a top my sheets?

There screams a crow,
Along a shore,
No one knows,
Why no more.

A lonely trail,
A line of trees,
A lizards tail,
And winter breeze.

A single bike,
An empty town,
A moonlit night,
Nowhere a sound.

In the distance, rings a bell,
Pulling me, from in my sleep.
A rippling creek, a river bank,
A mountain top, a flock of sheep.

In my head,
There it’s said,
With this thread,
Your soul I’ll shed.

A feather falls, a candles’ lit,
A blinding light, A soothing heat.
There again, a voice it says,
Make no mistake, it’s what you reap.

The road you took, the life you led,
Your mine to take, while your asleep.

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William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/849842 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2013′