My World

This is what happened last night in one of my dreams...

There he is.

So strong, so handsome, perfect hair,

And that smile; Ohh that smile.

It is as bright as the noon-day sun.

 

He is walking toward me,

With the grace of a doe,

And my excitement is as easy to see

As a daisy among a bouquet of roses.

 

He starts to speak

With a voice

That is as a cool, flowing river;

Perfect and smooth in every way.

 

“You look beautiful,” he says,

“As radiant as a rainbow.

I care about you in every way,

And you, my dear, are my world.”

 

He holds me tightly,

As if he will never let go,

And kisses me with love

As pure as the sunrise.

 

In this moment, everything is perfect.

 

Then I wake up, and find myself in reality.

Reviews

[Mir]

Dreams are one of the best things of our minds!

[zainul]

You were in a dream!
Very lovely work indeed.

[MAC]

nice dream....even better poem. not always easy to transfer the images in your head into poetry. excellent write!

[Acer]

Well written

[elizasexybeth]

you can see someone here is wanting that true love and the heading is perfect cos this is how they imagine it in their world

[KeeD]

Aww the ending, reality ruins everything pshh!
:D this was amazing and from the heart :) i enjoyed it

[Thisiscrae]

This is so sweet I love it

[Studio Dongo]

For me, the high-point of the poem is the simile at the end of the second stanza. Likening yourself to a daisy among roses is an engaging choice. When it comes to self-deprecation, it's always easier to compare ourselves to something that is supposed to be the opposite of beautiful, but a daisy is merely something that is a different kind of beautiful than a rose.

Nice choice.

Like Henry James' Daisy Miller, your narrative persona comes across as attractive and yet commonplace, which is especially effective because you have deftly identified yourself as a single daisy amidst a sea of roses. (It's as if the underappreciated Ms. Miller has stepped up to the microphone to say, "Who's common now?" to the crowd of roses.)

The poem really had me up to this point.

Maybe your other readers will be satisfied by what follows, but I found the ending a little flat. I know there must be creative ways of recuperating the rather hackneyed and abrupt "Then I wake up" conclusion, but for me, your middle seemed to promise a more nuanced and satisfying conclusion.

Perhaps I'm wrong. I often am. However, I think to get away with a conclusion that involves waking up from a dream, you have to push that conclusion into unfamiliar territory, somewhere outside the dream world that is funny or gut-wrenching or at least wiser for having dreamt whatever was dreamt.