by

Poetry: Dream With Me

It’s a cave. No, it’s a mouth. I’m standing on the tongue trying not to be swallowed but I find the warmth alluring. It’s almost like a siren song but I can’t hear it. What if I let myself go?

Action accompanies thought and I slide gently backward. I’ve turned into little Alice, all blue and white. Clicking my feet together three times I land beside the white rabbit but he’s got fangs and he tries to bite my ankles. “No,” I say but my words come out as meows. I’ve got whiskers and a hankering to find a spot to lay in the sun but it’s only skin all around me.

Is it tea time yet? A tidal wave of Mint Majesty knocks me off my feet and I tumble further and further down until I come out into the bright sunshine. I’m not inside anymore, I think, but maybe I’ve reached the center. Giant sunflowers surround a not-yellow house with a white picket fence. Voices call from inside but they are madness and I cover my ears so I don’t hear them. Too late. “Curl up into a ball,” they say.

I’m rolling now along a path lined by oceans on both sides. Starfish leap at me but I’m too fast. My bowling ball self hits the pins and someone yells “Strike” but before I can celebrate I’m in the cave again. No, it’s a mouth. This time I’ll do things differently.

Author’s note: I’m participating in Inktober this year by writing the prompt instead of making a drawing. This poem was my response to “dream.”

25 thoughts on “Poetry: Dream With Me”

  7. What indeed words written in poem. Amazing picture. Clicking my feet together three times I land beside the white rabbit but he’s got fangs and he tries to bite my ankles. “No,” I say but my words come out as meows.
    I’m rolling now along a path lined by oceans on both sides. Starfish leap at me but I’m too fast. My bowling ball self hits the pins and someone yells “Strike” but before I can celebrate I’m in the cave again. No, it’s a mouth. This time I’ll do things differently. Very interesting written you.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a comment