In the middle of the night
He once again awakes
But this time is different
No pain… No demons
No darkness
He sits quietly
Wondering if this is real
Or just a wonderful dream
He doesn’t really care
Because he loves what he feels
~The Tennessee Poet~
©Walt Page 2018 All Rights Reserved
Walt's Writings 
Do you get the pleasure of dreams like that? Nice write.
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Sometimes. Thank you Leigha 😌
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You’re welcome Walt!
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😊
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❤️
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🎄💚🎄
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Even in writing it Walt makes one feel that little better?
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It does Chris. Writing takes me inside a poem, almost like an out of body experience, and takes my mind off whatever pain I’m dealing with. You are very perceptive my friend. 😊
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Thank you Walt, I’ve been called worse… Perceptive I’ll bag that one. Hope you’re in good nick today. Happy Friday.
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You’r welcome Chris. Doing prett good so far today. Thanks for checking 🙂
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As long as he wasn’t dead…so to speak…I say that because I wrote a short story called Home on the Farm whee this old man wakes up and he no longer has pain, he can walk and breathe better. At the end you realize he’s passed on. Good good poem.
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Thank you so much Claudia. I almost wrote it that way but I have written several poems about death. I didn’t want people saying that I was obsessed with death like Sylvia Plath was. 😊
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Yes! That’s what we want 💛 Poetry is manifestation, and this good feeling you’ve versified, is on its way to stay, my dear friend!
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I’m ready for it 😊
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Good feeling, huh?
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Yes, if only it was true and not poetic license. 😊
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Oh…It was a good thought.
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Thank you 😉
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Very nice poem.
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Thank you Sadje 😊
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Welcome
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