Tuesday, 2 August 2011


In searching she steps into the stream
chasing dreams as they swim swiftly by
ever hopeful her own will appear in the ripples. 

Turning over the pebbles she continues
scanning the bed for that elusive colour
that memory of long lost happiness, hidden.

Silver shards of salvation dart deftly passed
into shady darkness, my net is made for
butterflies not souls she wept silently.

Further in the flow is faster, with
careful steps cautious of falling
she follows the zephyr of fate
"please wait" she cries out.

Wading in the watery depths watching
stars blossoms waft downwards
she is washed into the current
wishing she carried you with her.

At last she is lying on the river bed
she is sleeping now, she is not dead
her net is full of pearls just waiting
to enter her head when she is awakened.


  1. Lovely, Abi...'her net is full of pearls just waiting to enter her head when she is awakened' ~ a lovely line to end.. :)

  2. pearls just waiting to enter her head when she awakens...nice...and sometimes it takes quite the journey to get to the treasure...

  3. lovely images of inspiration...indeed she comes full of pearls and treasures.. just waiting for us to open our eyes...

    beautiful ~

  4. Dare I say I find this to be almost sinfully refreshing...there is both truth and beauty to be found amongst these words you have penned, and some truly wonderful little pearls of wisdom!

  5. Good poem. The ending was an unexpected line and works!

  6. A finely crafted poem here Linnet, indicative of many scenarios in life. When we think all is lost and finally rest a divine experience overtakes our unconscious dreams. Well done!

  7. Lovely and touching. I love this image of the stream you paint with flowing words. Yes, there should be a net for dreams : )

  8. I also liked the lines about the net for butterflies not souls, and the rhyming couplet in the last stanza is mournful and strangely reassuring also. The whole piece is excellent writing. Enjoyed it much.

  9. We often think we're prepared for the quest, the search to capture our dreams, our hearts needs. But sometimes we come equipped with the the wrong gear -- the butterfly net for attempting to collect souls. This poem was sufficient gear to capture me, though, Abi. Enchanting.

  10. Do you know what I pictured in my head while I was reading this poem? Millais Ophealia...Lizzie Siddel lying in a cold bath to almost drown with a net of pearls in her hair. Baeutiful! I snoop here and don't comment often...I had to leave a little thought on this one!

  11. Oh I felt I lived this piece as I read it. Beautifully composed and the final stanza is perfection! ~ Rose