A Poem

{Dreams are usually there when we turn out the lights and our minds start to shut down. No matter how much we learn about them we are always left with the mystery of their importance. Why do we dream about certain people or certain things?

I hope that you do not see this blog as creepy or odd. But only as an expression of my own thoughts. In my family there have been several Poets. My Grandfather Edward E. Storms has written many beautiful poems. Also my Great-Great Aunt Agnes Teague Cunningham wrote many wonderful poems before she died. My Aunts Marcy and Judy have often dabbled in poetry as well. These people give me the courage to express my thoughts in this way. In the future with their permission I might share some family poetry and other prose with my own take on their imagery. Have a good day!}


All through the night the rain pittered and pattered,
and through all my dreams the water too splattered.

If only as if the land there was real too,
a land of the mind, so strange but not new.

All through the dream I wonder about.
Talking to people, with meaning, with clout.

And through out our lives what do all these dreams mean?
Are they thoughts or just sludge, should they ever be seen?

All through our life we live like a ballad.
The ups and the downs have meaning, have triumphs.

We travel down roads that are dark and are scary.
But later on streets that are easy to terry.

And none like the ones that we see in our dreams.
And none as confusing if we don't know the meanings.

Here's hoping that more dreams are happy than sad,
and praying the good ones out weigh the bad.

But never to ask for these dreams to stop!
For they tell us a story on that side of the clock.

If only we knew, are they our words or Gods.
Or merely our minds working, when we start to nod.