A Field of Broken Dreams..

I stand alone in a field of broken dreams,
Like autum leaves fallen in spring
they are out of season.
There is no rhyme or reason.

Even though shattered they are still colorful,
not a one of them is dull.
As a soft summer breeze blows them slowly away
I lift my head and look forward to, another day.

Seasons come and go,
and ill winds often blow,
but still new dreams are borne,
even though bright hopes are torn.

Some may sit in lifes bitter ashes,
others mourn and weep in vain,
I have found that there is an end to pain,
and life does go on again.

I will never stop dreaming,
never give up hoping,
someday somewhere,
she'll be standing there.

In the autum of my life,
as the days grow ever grayer,
I will always have you Lord,
and will always live a prayer.

Copyright 5/6/97 by Dan Sharpe.

Back To The Index Of Poems.