Let it become more real


Say it one more time
so that it becomes more real.
Touch me with your words
So that I may learn to feel.

Come words, without you
I can lose my soul.
Please words, do flow to
help achieve my goal.

Come brighten my thought and
say it the way you mean it!
Repeat what you say
the way in dreams I’ve seen it!

Let them leave sweetly
from your gentle lips,
like the bright sails
on fair weathered ships.

Say it one more time
to share your reality.
Touch me with your words-
let it last…for eternity!

100 Word Stories: worshipped from afar


As I turned, to set my gaze upon her distant face, I realised that never would a day rise more beautifully than If I were to awaken by her side.

Moments ago, in dreams, she was mine…more real than the brightness of the sun summoning me to the light of day!

Now, awake to her presence, my heart dares not hope, dares not be more than a shadow in her light.

Sadly, I must contentment find in the mere thought of her touch.

For dreamy moments, are but dreams. She, a Goddess, I to remain no more than man.

50 Word Stories: journey beyond the stars


Trapped in dying dormant bodies, with even the silence of space eluding us; to souls who mattered, the voyage beyond the stars could not have been more perfect. In truth too perfect for reality to condone, but for those on the journey what unfolded was truly the stuff of dreams!

Les rêves – Dreams


A poem composed by my 13 year old daughter

On pense à des choses qui n’existent pas,
Dans ce rêve seul ou avec ton papa.
Il y a des choses grandes comme des avions
Et aussi fort que des tourbillons.

De grandes aventures dans ton sommeil,
Ce que tu vois au pays des merveilles.
Tous ces choses imaginaires,
Comme si on était plus sur terre.

Des lieux bizarres et inconnus,
Avec des arbres sans feuilles et nus.
Les étoiles brillent tellement fort,
Comme si ce n’était qu’un décor

Les enfants se mettent tous au lit,
Pour dormir longtemps pendant la nuit.
Quand tu as peur tes parents arrivent,
Aussi vite que des locomotives.

Parfois on pense à des choses qu’on aime,
Pour pouvoir l’écrire dans un poème.
Toutes choses semble si loin,
Dans ce long rêve inhumain.

more and more


drawn by beauty I have yet to see
filled with dreams of what should be
my heart now with shadows beat
ignoring what lies beside my feet

no time to spare for what is there
of what I have I fail to care
though what I seek is vague to me
from its claws I can’t be free

in my soul its dug so deep,
that peace eludes me in my sleep
these desires shape my mind
to make a restful moment hard to find

driven by desire for more and more,
my heart grows rotten at the core
convinced of needs I care not for
to only gather dust at deaths door

what foolish games I choose to play
for with what I gather I cannot stay
so easily bored with what is mine
how sad I covet what is thine

In a dream



The smell of roses far away,
as I walk among the clouds.
Images of my children play,
with birds singing in a crowd.

Crying voices heard aloud,
with angels standing near.
Faces veiled in shroud,
to conceal the hidden tear.

In my hand sits a bowl,
of glistening golden peach.
Next I feel my soul,
sitting by the beach.

With blinking eyes I know,
life is always near.
The sun will glow,
and make this very clear.


J M Lysun