I dreamt of you
for eleven thousand
seven hundred
and ten nights.
You spoke in
waking dreams.
You whispered
in the blackness,
called across the miles:
Hold on.
I’m here for you.
Stay.
You have commitments.
But after
eleven thousand
seven hundred
and ten nights
you called
to tell me
those words did not
apply to you.
Hold on.
I’m here for you.
Stay.
You have commitments!
I said to you,
but it was too late by then.
I dreamt of you
for eleven thousand
seven hundred
and ten nights,
until I learnt that
you weren’t really there
at all.
Shawn L. Bird 
Superb, Shawn
Thanks, Richard.
Welcome
Nice poem….
Thank you.
nice one!! 🙂
Thank you!
Beautiful poem Shawn.
Jim
Thanks, Jim.
That was …stunning ….Your poems inspire me 🙂 X
It is my honour to do so.
Asking one to stick around for over forty years is overdoing it a bit!
This certainly makes one think about how many dreams aren’t rooted in reality at all.
lol Really? Generations about us seem to manage quite simply. One day at a time, eh?
I really liked that one!
I’m glad! thanks for stopping by!
this is incredible – it makes me think i should add up the nights I thought of him, but i really do not think of him anymore. i need someone else to think of:) then i will begin counting!
I realized I over counted by a decade, but haven’t decided whether to fix the math! lol
I will never tell 🙂
lol
Absolutely lovely! 🙂
Thank you.
Briliant! :’)
Thank you.
Love this;)
Thanks.
That’s pretty deep. Relatable. I like it.
I’m glad you enjoyed, Dan.
I really enjoyed this. Great!
thank you.
Serene, quietly ardent and deep! I love the rationalizing, love actualization expressed in the line:
“I dreamt of you
for eleven thousand
seven hundred
and ten nights.”
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Shawn!
Thanks Shaquana.
Reblogged this on nidobhi.
uh how sad…
or not. 🙂
Yes I was. I was there. Yes, yes I know but I forgot to bring my cell charger and nobody else had a phone. But I was there. I swear. All 11,710 days. Ok, no, I wasn’t there during the nights. What? Where was I during the nights? I was out. What you mean where was out? Just out, OK? OK OK OK! – Yes, I was out with Julie. But I’m telling you she means nothing to me. I only spent 11,709 nights with her. It was nothing. Really. She is nothing. Look, look where I am right now. Would I be here if I didn’t mean it? OK, yes, I’m still at Julie’s place. But I want to be with you. Can’t you see that? Doesn’t that count for anything? Oh, right, only in my dreams…… I wish I had another 11, 710 chances to say that I’m sorry….. But I’m glad that at least I’m in your dreams…
lol!
Very nice, John!
(I almost with I could recount the reality of this one, but it’d destroy the depth of interpretive mystery, so I won’t.) 😉
sad for those waited night but happy as it has brought dawn of new hope and light. sometime we assume as if love one are alike. But as when the obscured night has turn into bright.. it is perhap hope and will, that enhance our insight.
As they say, “Vive la difference!” 😉
Every rose has its thorn…anyways cool stuff
Thorn, stem, roots, scent…
I have always astonished with those blind faith that on which love survive. But y it has to be always so for true one…. n as if when it appears nothing left, then y one cannot continue on his/her faith as it spritual. Here, i want to you to mark…does love varies in physical, mental or spritual paradigm respectively or it fluctuate within one’s individual perspective… Now u may say both are same
It’s a fundamental optimism and innate steadfastness, and/or complacency.
Awh….cool
But how?
11710 days is just over 32 years. very interesting. I’ve only been married just over 20 years. Your poem is touching, and makes me wonder if we’re both sometimes absentees.
Ah, so many stories woven through years: Lasting friendships, lingering loves, faces from crowds still memory’s ghosts of what could have been.
(That sounds like I should turn it into a poem. Hmm).
…
…This.
😉