
Each Side of the Veil
There is a realm of death and life
that long has dwelt each side of veil
where midnight falling waits on one;
where owls glide moon’s beams, not the sun’s
where breath softs and loss of logic begun
we creep to cross to dreamland’s trails.
Before we know, we’re on the other,
altered stated, senses priming,
mid-way adventured, directionless,
a confused amalgam one must confess;
mango peacock in neon purple dress
dancing tango; perfect timing.
Scripts are written to impress;
excitement now, to later guess
as subconscious gets undressed...
to urgent wake of bladder chiming!
I attempted to write in the general manner of Shel Silverstein’s poem, Where the Sidewalk Ends
Sanaa is today’s host for dVerse’ Open Link Night, where we can write to her mini-prompt or link up any one poem we choose.

I love how you have echoed Silverstein’s style here, Lisa! Especially this part; “where midnight falling waits on one; where owls glide moon’s beams, not the sun’s.” 🩷🩷
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Sanaa, thanks very much.
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A lovely dreamscape poem and you have mirrored Shel Silverstein’s poem. I really loved …where owls glide moon’s beams, not the sun’s
where breath softs and loss of logic begun
we creep to cross to dreamland’s trails.
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Thanks so much, Di.
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I love your dream collage in both words and image. (K)
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Kerfe, thank you.
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You captured the feel of Shel Silverstein’s poem in your side of the veil, Lisa. I love the absurdly colourful image in:
‘mango peacock in neon purple dress
dancing tango; perfect timing.’
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:) happy you liked that pretty bird
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Very well written, Lisa. Two sides of the veil… what an interesting was to look at it. Your ending is perfect. The bladder always takes precedent it seems.
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Dwight, thanks much. One of the kigo (seasonal) phrases for this time of year is the thinning of the veil, so I used it as a starting point. I had to throw some absurdity in there (but still truth) so the interrupting bladder made an appearance :)
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I loved it.
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The thinning of the veil is def the place between the living and the dead. The view depends on the perspective. The dreamland is a journey each night and one never knows where the road will go. Hopefully, the bladder didn’t disrupt a good dream.
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Truedessa, thanks for reading and sharing what you see/know.
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That last line is a perfect ending, made me laugh!
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So happy to make you laugh, C4Y2 :)
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I love the mix of beauty and absurdity. My dreams are often like that.
I especially liked:
“a confused amalgam one must confess;
mango peacock in neon purple dress
dancing tango; perfect timing.”
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Glad you enjoyed it, Merril. Thank you :)
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You’re welcome, Li!
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Wonderful!
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Thanks, Chris!
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You did a great job Lisa! A beautiful poem :-) <3 <3
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Thanks much, Carol Anne <3
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Excellent! From the dreamlike and surreal, to the tapping of reality’s wake-up call, this is sublime. This is a favorite of yours for me!
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Jennifer so happy you connected with it <3
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If ever a poem had a perfect ending . . . ! 😂 Loved your foray into Shel Silverstein land, Lisa. ❤️
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Tickled pink you enjoyed the poem, Dora, thank you <3
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My pleasure, dear Lisa.
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