The Poem

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Tossing and turning, it is another restless night as Allie is dreaming of the one person that she wishes she had in her life. The man in her dreams she’s never met, yet she loves him with all her heart. Tonight is no different than any other night; just as soon as her head hits the pillow, she is dreaming. In her dreams of magical times, he carries her away on a lovely paint horse. They ride off into the beautiful sunset, with everyone watching. Her long hair cascading into the wind, she waves good-bye with her white cowgirl hat. In every dream that she has, he always is comforting her with his strong arms wrapped around her body.~0~

She sits up and stares at the clock, waiting for her eyes to focus on the digital numbers. The clock displays 3:03 in its red numerals. While rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a thought for a poem comes to mind. Even though Allie’s body isn’t awake, the writer in her doesn’t keep office hours. She quietly gets out of bed, being careful not to wake the man she is lying next too. He doesn’t understand her midnight creative bursts, and she also doesn‘t want him to know what she has been dreaming of. She walks out of the bedroom and heads towards the kitchen. Knowing that she won’t be able to go back to sleep until this poem is written, she puts on the kettle to make some herbal tea. While the water is heating up, Allie gathers up her writing notebook and her trusty pen, and she starts the poem off...~1~

countless hours I have spent,

~2~

wishing, hoping, dreaming.

~3~

The teakettle is now whistling, and she gets up walks over to the stove and turns the burner off. She grabs a cup out of one cupboard and a tea bag out of another. She places the tea bag into the cup, and pours the hot liquid into it. The aroma of the tea is soothing to her sense of smell. She takes a spoon out of the drawer, spoons out the teabag and with the paper tag and her thumb she squeezes out the water from the bag into the cup. She adds a couple teaspoons of sugar and some milk and stirs the tea. With that done, she walks back over to the kitchen table and sits down behind her notebook. She sips her tea and reads what she has written. She thinks of the person that she is writing this for. She thinks of his blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes, his endearing smile, and his sense of humor. She thinks then of her life as it is now and she wonders if going to him would be the best thing to do. In her head she thinks of what she would lose and tries to balance with things she has to gain by leaving her husband to start over with just a voice over the telephone.~4~

She stares at this notebook. She looks at these eight words, and her mind goes blank. The white page, with its blue horizontal lines and red vertical margin, sit there almost tormenting her. Reading the words again, she sees her inspiration and she picks up her pen again and continues to write...~5~

countless hours I have spent

~6~

wishing, hoping, dreaming.

~7~

wishing you’re arms were around me

~8~

hoping to be in your sweet embrace.

~9~

dreaming...

~10~

The word “Dreaming” triggered what she dreamt about before waking with the urge to write a poem. She looked up from her notebook, the ball point pen falling to the tabletop. ~11~
A blank stare on her face, she played with her hair. Then she let out a sigh, relaxing her posture. The dream played on in her head...~12~

...He is wearing a pair of faded Levi’s, a denim shirt with the long sleeves cuffed, a white Stetson hat, and a pair of boots with silver spurs. Her cowboy is carrying a single yellow rose, which he gives to her after a long and passionate kiss. During the kiss, he picks Allie up and swings her around, he then takes her in his arms and puts her on his horse. She sits in the saddle and waits patiently for him to get on behind her. He always holds the reins in two hands so he can have both arms around the woman he loves. ~13~

They ride off, his arms holding her. The horse is so graceful in her glide over the rolling, grassy hills. The landscape is filled with, dandelions, forget-me-nots, and little buttercups. These little specks of color contrast nicely to the bright green of the grass. The gentle breeze seems to be making the sparse covering of trees wave at them as they pass by. Eventually they come to a little clearing with a stream cascading down a winding path. They dismount. Once he removes the saddle from the horse, he unfolds the blanket that was neatly kept in one of the saddle bags...~14~

She is thrown out of her revelry by a noise. She startles and opens her eyes directly into a set of yellowish-green eyes. It was her cat who finally discovered that someone was awake. She pets the Angora cat while once again reading what she has written in her notebook. A bit of inspiration strikes her and she pens the next verse.~15~

countless dreams I have dreamt

~16~

of love, of life ,of you.

~17~

of love, where would I be without you

~18~

of life, who would I be without you

~19~

of you...

~20~


The cat’s purring, playful mood once again interrupted her creative moment. She fidgeted in her chair, stroking the cat a few more times before she reached over and picked the cat up and put him on the floor. She picked up her coffee cup and she saw the bottom of the cup. She got up and made herself another cup and then sat back down at the kitchen table. Repositioning her chair, Allie grabbed the pen and looked at her notebook again. She was once again sent into a trance...~21~

...He takes the unfolded blanket, grabs it by one of the outer seams and snaps it with a quick up and down movement of his arms. The blanket softly floats to the ground. He picks up cradling her in his arms, and she has her arms wrapped around his neck. He walks onto the blanket, and as they stand in the middle of the blanket, he kisses her. In her dreams she loves being kissed by her dream lover, in her dreams she loves being with this man.~22~

He bends at the waist and gently puts her on the blanket. Then he lays down next to her. Allie is laying on her back with her hand behind her head. He is on his side propped up on his elbow. His free hand is caressing the curves of her body, he is feeling the seam on her skirt. She leans forward, their lips meet, they are both lost in each other. They are in their own world, oblivious to the birds singing from the nearby trees, the butterflies dancing in the air currents, the bumblebee flitting from flower to flower. They are experiencing unbridled passion...~23~

The dream is once again interrupted by a car driving by her house. She glances at her writing and thinks of the next verse to write of her poem. Her pen is moving steady across the page that is steady becoming anything but blank. As she writes her, tongue poking between her lips, she looks to be deep in thought as she enters these words...~24~

countless days I have waited,

~25~

the months, the weeks, everyday.

~26~

The months, for one day you’ll be mine.

~27~

the weeks, that we’ll be together

~28~

everyday...

~29~

She reads over what she wrote and is confident that she has competed what she had set out to write. Allie gathers up her writing implements, her coffee cup, then she gets up to place the cup in the sink and heads back to bed. She stops at her end table and puts away her notebook and pen, and walks down the hallway to the bedroom. In the bedroom, she hovers over his side of the bed. She looks down at him and feels a little ashamed of what she has been dreaming about. She strokes the his brown hair off of his forehead and gives him a little kiss. He continues to sleep, and she walks around to her side of the bed, and slips under the covers. ~30~

Within minutes of laying down, she is asleep and once again dreams of the blonde cowboy with the yellow rose. To look at her sleeping body you know that she is enjoying these dreams, and her feelings of guilt are only there when she is awake. In her daydreams she has made love to her dream man thousands of times. Shortly after this dream started, the tossing and turning had started again. Then she figured out why she could not sleep, the poem was unfinished. She once again made the journey to the kitchen table with her notebook and pen. Once she reread what she had wrote the last verse came to mind. She wrote...~31~

countless days I have waited,

~32~

the months, the weeks, everyday.

~33~

The months, for one day you’ll be mine.

~34~

the weeks, that we’ll be together

~35~

everyday...

~36~

Then in her notebook, on the uppermost blue line she wrote these words...~37~

Dreaming of you everyday...and always

~38~

After scratching the line under the words she heard a familiar noise coming from the bedroom, the clock radio and the radio announcer was telling her that the day was officially beginning...~39~







To read the poem..."Dreaming Of You Everyday...and Always"