An endless procession of faces it seems-
Pass my bed nightly, and torment my dreams.
Some bring sweet nostalgia, some fill me with dread-
They’ve one thing in common, they are all long since dead.
There’s my Grandfather, his hair nearly white-
His appearance brings pleasure, and thoughts of delight.
The hours together, we spent as a child-
His knowledge, his patience, the way that he smiled.
And there is my Mother, she’s young in my dreams-
Her dark eyes are shining, she laughs in these scenes.
But alcohol took her and ended her joy-
Robbed her of reason, her life did destroy.
Rip was my idol, a football hero
As a younster, to me, some attention he showed.
Then he graduated and joined the Marines...
Something in ‘Nam, must have shattered his dreams.
When he came home his manner had changed-
Angry, withdrawn, and maybe deranged.
It seemed all he wanted was to drink and to fight
A wreck at high speed brought his end one dark night.
Dozens of others, both women and men-
Played a part in my life, some time way back then.
The worst times of all are when Ronnie comes round-
My brother, the fool, whom a coward gunned down.
Nightmares? or dreamscapes? It doesn’t matter
With the dawn of the day, these visions all shatter..
So whether the visions bring me joy, or fright-
It really don’t matter, they come every night.
Visit My Home Page