Of beauty and fantasies,
Of dances and melodies,
Of gardens and candlelit ways under the starlight,
Of portraits and sculptors of the lady with her knight,
Of kisses and eyelashes,
Of rainwater splashes,
Of commitments and promises for decades and centuries,
Of love and oneness in lives across eternities,
Dreams are made of moonbeams, they say,
Realities are cut out of earth and clay.
Beauty, fantasies, dances, melodies,
Gardens, starlight, portraits and stories,
Dreams and dreams; are dreams of dreams.
Dreams glitter, they shine and glow,
Realities are real and mundane, we know.
But dreams can break into a thousand moonbeams,
Glittering shards of glass; of beauty and pain they’re reams,
Realities are real; dreams clash with realities.
So, I had this dream,
All beauty and moonbeam!
Sculptors and portraits of romance,
Of music and stories and songs and dance!
So hard it hit against reality,
Through the glass and tears, I struggled with my sanity.
Unborn dreams and unspoken realities
Are as real as actualities and as surreal as fantasies.
Dreams are broken in every passing moment,
But again, they will be born and take you in their torrent.
Hard it is to stick to reality,
Harder still to give up a fantasy!
Days and nights have passed in pain
And in struggling hard to keep me sane.
I have those dreams, tucked in the back of my drawers,
It’s all broken glass, tears, dried, withering flowers.
A bruised and bleeding heart beats in me
Because of that one fleeting romantic moment when I believed I could let my dreams take on my reality.