Voice Of A Poet

    My dreams are the mysteries of stories untold
    they dance as I do on their pots of gold
    with fairies and elves on the mountains they land
    and somehow I never see them again

    My feet are the whispers between lovers that hear
    they take me to places that sometimes I fear
    they fly with the wings that blind men can see
    and travel so fast that I can be free

    My eyes are the windows in a house made of pains
    they open to truths that are lost in the rain
    they close out the lies that hide in the night
    and lead me on to the Guiding Light

    My heart is the freedom that binds us all
    yet before I speak it answers the call
    it closes my mind when I wish to dream on
    and will play my part when I am long gone

    My soul is the secret between best friends
    unravel the strands and the world is within
    my world is a fairy tale locked in a book
    your dream is the key, so take a look.


    Terri Hope Waters

    January 1997

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kwaters@USCUpstate.edu