Fantasies of the Waking Dreamer
By
K.W. McCabe
Copyright © 2012 K.W. McCabe and FantaFire Press
Published by FantaFire Press
All rights reserved.
Smashwords Edition
Cover art by:
http://cheapbookies.blogspot.com
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are product’s of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any printed or electronic form without written permission from this author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.
Other works by K. W. McCabe:
Dark and Light: A Small Collection of Poetry
Dreams Both Real and Strange I: An Anthology
Dreams Both Real and Strange II: An Anthology
Fantasies of the Waking Dreamer: A Small Collection of Poetry
*The Dragon’s Call (Coming Soon)
Contents
Rain
Dead Dreams
Happiness and Joy
Heart’s Dawn: The Death of Cupid
Liquid Star: Goodbye Earth
Pass the Birthday Cake
Looking Back
Rain
A harsh and eerie whistling
Runs swiftly through the moor—
Reminding one of chills and shivers,
Chilling to the core.
Greyness casts across the sky
As darkness seems to fall—
And the whistling runs again
As a shower calls:
“Away, away! You feeling heart—“
“Hide away again!”
“There is no place on this dark moor,”
“For tender sores to mend…”
The whistling seems to echo now,
As lightening stabs the sky—
And this dark heart hides deep away,
As the wind flies by.
“Oh, bend and bow you tender threads!”
“Shiver and shake, you grass!”
And thunder seems to roar and pound
Like the clink of shattered glass.
But all is silent in this midst
Of turmoil deep within—
And this dark heart hides once again,
That eerie whistling.
Dead Dreams
I
Watched
As dreams died
And
butterflies fluttered
Like dead leaves
Out of the
Sky
Happiness and Joy
Happiness is a candle
In a passing breeze,
Joy is a lighthouse
Upon the stormy seas
Heart’s Dawn
Spacious, vast, gray and wide
Empty of heart yet vivid of mind.
Plodding through some heatless desert-
Footsteps tread, no heart to alert.
Will rain ever touch that empty land?
Will green ever kiss that dry dead sand?
What sky is that, that hath no hue?
What clouds are those that leave dry dew?
What life will ever find that place?
What emotion can ever cross that face?
What hope is there for joy to live?
What strength will bring life?
What love to give?
What Dawn will ever brighten that Heart?
Is Cupid dead?
Where is his dart?
Liquid Star: Good-bye Earth
I see a star twinkle, in light of burning-
Shimmering, glimmering and ever turning,
Stayed in a hazy blue repose-
A deadly brightening at glorious day’s close,
Ever living in that night,
Ever blossoming in its dark twilight.
Glistening like love’s first glow.
Fighting gallantly against night’s close-
And suddenly comes harsh day’s light;
A liquid star fading from that night,
Slowly, softly…losing the fight…
Ever fading…Its beautiful light…
Will it ever shine again?
Pass the Birthday Cake
Candles all aflame
Flickering to and fro,
Boxes everywhere
Covered in frills and bows—
But no on notices there
Hiding in the deep—
A small child all alone,
Wishing to be asleep.
“Pass the cake around!”
“Give me some icecream!”
The air is filled with shouts of glee—
But nothing is as it seems.
People frisk and frolick
Urging her to hurry,
To open all the presents now
Before they have to scurry—
But no one seems to care,
That hiding in the deep—
Is that small child all alone,
Begging to be asleep.
The presents are all opened now
And all the guests have gone,
Cheerfully walking out the door
Singing birthday songs.
All of them have left
And now she is alone,
Humming a soft birthday song
In soft and broken tones—
For no one ever seemed to care
That hiding in this deep,
This small child is still alone
Praying to fall asleep.
Looking Back
Sitting
here peaceful, quiet
I think of all the things I've been
through
All the things I've done
And I realize as I sit here
thinking
I wouldn't change a bit of it
Not one.
Thankful
I had the time I did
Grateful,
I had a good life—
I didn't
have it bad like most people
With their anger, bitterness, and
strife.
As
I sit here peaceful, quiet
Grateful,
I never was alone—
And
I discover as I sit here thinking
I wouldn't change a bit of
it
Not one.
About the Author
K.W. McCabe is a Californian transplant to Minnesota. She lives there with her family where she tries very hard to stay warm in all the snow. She has loved fairy tales, sci-fi, and fantasy all her life, and has been writing stories and poems of that nature since she could first spell. She has worked, in the past, as a library assistant, a baby sitter, a counseling hotline intern, and as a case manager. She maintains that art and writing can only be done when inspired, and inspiration comes from a sufficient amount of laziness. Currently, she is working on the sequel to The Dragon's Call.
Contact her at:
https://twitter.com/#!/kw_mccabe
http://www.facebook.com/#!/kywmccabe