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Rated: E · Poetry · Supernatural · #1441737
Dreams can often change one's life
The fire was burning low,
There were no stars in sight.
She sat across from me,
Glowing in pale moonlight.
Her skin was smoky brown,
Her hair black as coal.
She wore a small sad smile,
Time had taken its toll.
Speaking not a word,
Making not a noise.
She told me her story,
And gave me a choice.
Do I learn from her,
Or do I follow trend?
Do I learn to love,
Or do I let it end?
I chose to listen,
I chose to let her teach.
I wanted to learn,
All that was out of reach.
She taught me faith,
She taught me respect.
The old woman shifted,
And slowly sat erect.
The wind was picking up,
Blowing sand around.
I swiftly closed my eyes,
And threw myself down.
The wind soon died down,
Then I dared to stand.
The old woman was gone,
Leaving nothing in the sand.
I sat up in my bed,
Rubbing my sore eyes.
I looked at the tiny stars,
And listened to the windy sighs.
Was it all a dream,
Or did I see the Lady?
Did I imagine it,
Or is my memory hazy?
I looked down at the bed,
And I widened my eyes.
Sand was on the blanket,
Red silk on my thighs.
I smiled to myself,
And lay back down to sleep.
She had really taught me,
Knowledge I would keep.
© Copyright 2008 Amaranth (ameryth at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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