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(My father; Walter William Smith, Sr.)
Acrostic: I Dream of Dead People
© 2018, Olan L. Smith
In the past I dreamed of strangers, sorry I didn't dream of you
Despite your cunningness to lure me in, no moment I slept do I
Remember every seeing your image written in my mind's
Eye. Now divorced of you, and your deadly web, my dreams
Acquire a distasteful ilk. See, I dream most nights of the departed.
My heart still pulses blood on its course, so I determined it's not an
Omen of my demise, rather most of the souls who came along
For this merry ride, their tickets have expired, therefore if I
Do dream of those I know, the odds are they're deceased and that makes
Ever so much sense to me. However, that is not the end of the story,
All neatly wrapped, not in the least. Hauntings are real! Although,
Dear, you don't haunt me, my loved ones do. From Cousin Dale to
Peggy Sue, from Mom and Dad, and Cousin Cody, they visit me, not
Every night, though. You see I miss them, but not you.
Only the dead are welcome here, and although you are dead to me,
Please, don't assume I care for you, because you are among the
Living. I dream of those I love even though they have stepped,
Endearingly, into a realm where they pass from day to night.
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(My Mother; Louise Lowry (Wescott) Smith)
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
