Friday, November 9, 2018


Dreams do hang in unison,
pegged to tired wires,
teased by listless breezes;
dried by life's desires.

Frayed on every corner,
tangled threads reveal,
stories are unravelling;
such is time's appeal.

Washed in silent suds,
offered to the rains,
call to be recovered;
rescued from the pain.

Birds in curious waiting,
balance on the line,
thus is doubt attending;
so are dreams denied.


  1. love your final stanza the most but really the whole poem was just so cleverly written, birds in curious waiting is such an amazing metaphor for a feeling of disillusionment, or as i read it at least.

  2. Wow. had to read this a few times - so beautifully written and melancholy - not all dreams come true.

  3. Nice sound. I liked this line: "dried by life's desires"

  4. I specially admire the opening lines with dreams hanging and frayed on every corner. When doubts step on, many a dreams are denied.

  5. The thought of dreams as clothes on a clothesline works so very well... I can almost feel that we tend to care for our favorite dreams just like a favorite shirt.

  6. A unique laundry dreams the birds on the line as well. Yes, some dreams fray and dry up. Beautifully written in rhyming verse...I've always admired your flowing style, Roslyn.

  7. So lyrically beautiful and rhythmic, I guess it might be best not to wash our dreams, but to let them wash over us, but one might have to walk round in squishy wet shoes. Loved the birds in curious waiting. 💤