Dreams and Realities

DREAMS AND REALITIES
BY ELIZABETH SOUTHWOOD

PART 1: DREAM
I live in a house by the sea,
a house full of our love where
happiness flows
like the tide,
where salt wind blows
mermaid serenades
through bayberry and beach grass.
We race across
damp amber sand,
splash into the chilly sea
in dazzling sun,
then, wrapped in white kimonos,
sit on our porch
overlooking murmuring water,
eat bacon, coddled eggs,
raspberries, sip coffee,
eyes meeting appreciatively,
while seagulls squeal.
Wild pink roses grow in the yard,
and I make rose hip jelly.

PART 2: REALITY
Our house on a hill
overlooks a bay,
edged by many new houses.
Tall mirrored buildings rise also.
Cars crowd and creep along freeways.
Our winter-white wild roses
are nibbled by deer,
pedigreed roses protected
by chicken wire,
(POEM #2, DREAMS AND REALITIES, PAGE 2, SOUTHWOOD)


sprayed carefully:
no more rose hip jelly.
You don’t like kimonos,
would rather wear denim
while planting St. John’s Wort
to cover the new drain field.
I slather on sun block.
We eat tofu, not bacon,
peek at TV
while reading
mysteries,
take turns choosing movies,
accept each other’s
frailties,
laugh helplessly
at the El Ninos of life.
I still hear
the sea’s heartbeat
in my dream
where sharp reality
is smoothed and misted
like shards of glass
tumbled by the sea.

In reality too,
my heart still beats
pleasurably,
like waves
pounding
on sand,
for
you.