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I Rest
1 April, 2004
author: Rebecca Ditch-Hammack (aka Dreamer)

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Even as I sleep the world continues
People live, people die
People find love and lose it

Yet I am content right now
In my slumber I find rest
Rest of my weariness
Of an inevitable year

Put aside are the troubles of the world
He snores beside me
Reinforcing my security

For now I am comfortable
In my life and surrounding
Finally peace has come
Finally.. I can sleep

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Comments on this poem/writing:

barb (209.112.24.87) -- Friday, April 2 2004, 05:30 am

hit a nerve for some

your poem expresses that we have to be happy for what we got and not always searching for something better.I used to be like that. Your poem is for me and all the other ones that are always searching. thank-you
Meridian (205.188.116.134) -- Friday, April 2 2004, 07:28 am

The Queen of Poetry!

Hey Dreamer! How's it going? I know you've got some interesting and exciting poetry! I love this poem about relaxation, and security while you're at it!! Good one Dreamer!!
Capricorn (82.36.129.85) -- Saturday, April 3 2004, 12:18 am

no title

Peace! ... I'm glad you can feel it at last, Becky. Nice to have him back,eh?
LinzAy (24.53.210.143) -- Sunday, April 4 2004, 08:59 pm

''''''

I love the feeling of safety and security with the person you cre about right next to you......great poem Becky :)
MartinV (4.244.171.104) -- Friday, April 9 2004, 05:53 am

Dreamer's words, go far beyond, their simple, to

Dreamer,
We all, those of us who know your heart, understand the meaning of theses words. The sound of his snoring, not a pretty word, snoring, unless you have not heard it for oh, so very long, and only had the memory, to share within a lonley bed.

All of us are happy and rejoice, that your heart is once again complete. The power in your poem, it's words, of common day expresion, have not fallen upon a heart that can not hear the truth, revealed in your simply, honest thought.

For what I hear buried in these simple words is this.., had he never been allowed to return, it is the memory of the simple things, passion will come and go, the life of love itself, is its memory. We are all grateful, that you no longer live..., it's with a memory.

MartinV
Stacey (68.82.127.61) -- Sunday, April 11 2004, 03:40 am

Beautiful

What peaceful words, a lovely poem. Anyone who complains about their loved one snoring should be smacked. :) I'm glad you have him back Becky.
 
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