The Dreams That Murmur

Embrown: To make or become brown or dark.
Mystic: Of obscure or misterious character or significance.
Desolation: An act or instance of desolating.

The dreams murmur in your ear,

Telling you what you want to hear.

Are dreams a mystic creature,

Or just another feature?

Your heart starts to embrown,
Dragging your spirits down.

You feel desolation in your heart,

Making your soul turn tart.

The dreams murmur in your ear,

Turning joy into fear.

Dream Phantom

Enigmatic: Resembling a enigma; perplexing; mysterious.
Phantom: An appearance or illusion without material substance, as a dream image, mirage, or optical illusion.
Sneaky: Like or suggestive of a sneak; furtive; deceitful.

The phantom of your dream,

Makes your fears begin to gleam.

Enigmatic is the result,

And then you feel it's your fault.

Sneaky is the angish,

When it kills your only wish.

You relise it's night,

And you wish you wern't in the fight.

You don't want to sleep,

So you begin to weep.

You nightmare is alive,

And begins to thrive,

The phantom of you dream,

Is very mean.

The Night of the Full Moon

O come with me into this moonlight world.
The trees are large and soft tonight,
With blossoms loaded soft and white,
A cloud of whiteness furling and unfurled.
The houses give their sounds upon the air
In muted tones and secrecies,
Their lights like laughter through the trees.
The evening breathes its vows into our hair.
The evening puts its lips to throat and brow
And swears what it has sworn before
To others and will swear to more.
The evening has its arms around us now.
By Lloyd Frankenberg
I liked this poem because I found that when I read it, I remembered a very special night.

Moonlight

Mistical: mistic;occult.
Gloomy: dark or dim; deeply shadowed.
Moonlight: The light of the moon.

The moonlight fows,

Shifting the world 'til it glows.

The perly white light,

Cuts into the night,

Like a mistical sword,

Of the night lord.

The night was dark,

Gloomy in the park.

But moonlight sparks,

Lighting up the parks.

When I found this poem it brought me back to a morning in 2007. I woke up one morning and saw frosted trees, and simalar things. It was an inspiaring poem and I hope to create one like it one day.

November Morning

A tingling, misty marvel
Blew hither in the night,
And now the little peach-trees
Are clasped in frozen light.
Upon the apple-branches
An icy film is caught,
With trailing threads of gossamer
In pearly patterns wrought.
The autumn sun, in wonder,
Is gayly peering through
This silver-tissued network
Across the frosty blue.
The weather-vane is fire-tipped,
The honeysuckle shows
A dazzling icy splendor,
And crystal is the rose.
Around the eaves are fringes
Of icicles that seem
To mock the summer rainbows
With many-colored gleam.
Along the walk, the pebbles
Are each a precious stone;
The grass is tasseled hoarfrost,
The clover jewel-sown.
Such sparkle, sparkle, sparkle
Fills all the frosty air,
Oh, can it be that darkness
Is ever anywhere!
by Evaleen Stein
November 18 2009

When You Wake

Brusque: abrupt in manner; blunt; rough.
Adventure: an exciting or very unusal experience.
Extravagant: exceeding the bounds of reason, as actions, demands, opinions, or passions.

When you wake,

Everything seems fake.

Your head,

feels dead.

When you here a jingle,

Your fingers start to tingle.

The stars shine bright,

With an errie yellow light.

No bird calls,

As the snow falls.

Adventure is comes around,

Coming out of the frozen ground.

Exravagant is the night,

Giving a small fright.

Brusque is the cold,

Night is only for the bold.

When you wake,

Nothing seems fake.