Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 453

For today’s prompt, write a dream poem. I love to write these every so often. Sometimes the dream takes center stage (and it can get kind of surreal). Other times, I incorporate pieces of a dream or dreams into a larger poem. If you don’t dream, write a poem about your lack of dreams or imagine what a dream might be like.


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Here’s my attempt at a Dream Poem:

“in dreams”

i have trouble harnessing gravity,
often bouncing around like i’m
on the moon. & i fall. frequently.

it’s a little troubling how often
i’m walking along ledges without
railing. & then i fall. in love

with people i’ve met & people
i’ve never met. & then i fall
& kick my feet & eventually

i mostly seem to forget.


Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He dreams more often than he doesn’t.

Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.

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107 thoughts on “Wednesday Poetry Prompts: 453

  1. Susan1120

    Last night I heard you calling my name
    From within the shadowy mist.
    “Come with me,” you said in a voice
    That was impossible to resist.

    You took my hand and led me to
    A place I have never been
    Where wishes and dreams come true
    And our love would never end.

    You vowed to love and protect me
    And to take away my pain.
    You held me tight in your arms
    And I would never be the same.

    At last, I felt safe and secure
    Or so it would seem,
    For then I had awakened-
    It had only been a dream.

  2. Jane Shlensky

    Naga Gift

    I dreamt of serpents, azure-eyed
    with crests like crowns upon their heads,
    scales like feathers, plumes instead,
    the female by her husband’s side.

    She glided just beside my foot,
    as fear of poison gripped my brains:
    he looked aggressive, wielding pain,
    and so I closed my eyes and put

    my faith in softer stuff than fear.
    And when I looked on them anew,
    my joy and awe and kindness grew.
    How glad I was that they were here.

    “O God, how beautiful you are,”
    I said, and felt my senses swell.
    They dipped their heads as if to tell
    me they agreed. Like brightest stars,

    they seemed to smile, their lovely eyes
    a blessing I remember still.
    Then slipped away, regal until
    they turned to nod their last goodbyes.

    I woke still awed, took paper, pen,
    recording the encounter there,
    knowing they taught me something rare:
    to conquer fear, look kindly then.

    Some dreams, like snowflakes, melt away,
    the brain misfiring, little more.
    These nagas sought me just before
    I moved to Asia to stay,

    reminding me when I’m afraid
    of something someone new and strange
    to open heart and mind and change
    to see beauty that need not fade.

  3. Jane Shlensky


    I dreamt of serpents, azure-eyed
    with crests like crowns upon their heads,
    scales like feathers, plumes instead,
    the female by her husband’s side.

    She glided just beside my foot,
    as fear of poison gripped my brains:
    he looked aggressive, wielding pain,
    and so I closed my eyes and put

    my faith in softer stuff than fear.
    And when I looked on them anew,
    my joy and awe and kindness grew.
    How glad I was that they were here.

    “O God, how beautiful you are,”
    I said, and felt my senses swell.
    They dipped their heads as if to tell
    me they agreed. Like brightest stars,

    they seemed to smile, their lovely eyes
    a blessing I remember still.
    Then slipped away, regal until
    they turned to nod their last goodbyes.

    I woke still awed, took paper, pen,
    recording the encounter there,
    knowing they taught me something rare:
    to conquer fear, look kindly then.

    Some dreams, like snowflakes, melt away,
    the brain misfiring, little more.
    These nagas sought me just before
    I moved to Asia to stay,

    reminding me when I’m afraid
    of something someone new and strange
    to open heart and mind and change
    to see beauty that need not fade.

  4. Lillyorchid777

    Of dreams and flying things

    Into the mist I go
    where flying horses roam on stripes of silver rays in a moonlit sky,
    and a band of butterflies play melodies simply by flapping their wings.
    Into the midst I go from nightfall to dawn,
    savoring each minute I spend
    in this land of dreams.
    Laying my long johns on a grey weathered dock
    in this land of dreams
    I go for a midnight swim in a river of stars,
    watch a parade of elephants dance,
    sing with the frogs,
    and journey on a hot air balloon to visit other worlds.

  5. MargoL

    No beginning or end.

    In a dream there is no
    beginning or end.
    Time is suspended.
    Why? I do not know.

    Often I dream about
    my boys still as children.
    Even though they are
    now young men beyond doubt.

    This dream puzzles me.
    Is it the empty nest
    syndrome? Or I miss those
    days, simple and carefree.

    Some dreams are pleasing,
    others are troublesome.
    I just want to wake up
    to something appeasing.

  6. mayboy


    put in the lullaby
    all over the sky,
    day night dreamers,
    the holy grail pinners.

    from the distance
    observers to universal
    key searchers deep
    in their genomes.

    finding the code of
    dreams come true,
    the secret worldwide
    (k)nights language is key.

  7. Sibella

    Lord and Lady

    Two great chairs by the hearth, a pool of light.
    There he is, our hero, a hand on each lion head.
    And there she is, the lady—

    a quick crouch, skirts flashing,
    her butt brushing the hard wood,
    before she’s up and off again.

    Perhaps it was a photo op.
    Maybe there was a contract: must appear
    to be alive and caring.

    Some men wall them up
    or send them on overseas assignments.
    Some women, themselves,

    decide on separate doors. You never see their faces.
    The men, though, they put on faces.

  8. Marie Elena


    I long to travel
    far and wide –
    See mountainside
    and ocean’s tide
    ‘cross continents
    unfixed. Untied.
    The thought gives me
    immense delight!
    As long as I’d be
    home each night.

    © Marie Elena Good, 2018

    “There’s no place like home.”

  9. PressOn

    (Based on “By The Light of the Silvery Moon”; Gus Edwards, Edward Madden, 1909)

    By the light of that oversized moon
    I’m bound to croon
    to the sound of a swoonin’ loon.
    Super moon,
    you ain’t waitin’ for June;
    your yellowish beam
    makes my dreams gleam,
    I’ll be poemin’ soon
    `neath that oversized moon.

    1. PowerUnit

      My Badgers could have used a few more fans singing by the light of the moon this weekend 🙁

      If you want to be a badger,
      Just come along with me.
      By the bright shining light,
      By the light of the moon.
      If you want to be a badger,
      Just come along with me.
      By the bright shinning light of the moon!

  10. timphilippart

    Status of dreams

    A dream looking for a home
    took down my dream wanted sign.
    I asked for references.
    It mentioned three brains.

    I returned the sign to my window.
    It pays to find out
    where a dream has been.
    Some won’t leave once they get in.

    Each night more dreams go homeless
    than bed down in human minds.
    Dreams of love take one look
    and pass my sign right by.

    Then comes the wanted, winsome dream
    wafting within reach
    for which I grasp and miss,
    and that becomes my greatest nightmare.

  11. Troy DeFrates


    Nightly my dreams are so real
    Stealing away days it seems
    Teeming with the screams I feel
    They reveal how I careen

    Wishing to escape my fear
    Dreary do the dreams partake
    Forsaking what I hold dear
    Barely bearing my dreamscape

  12. Troy DeFrates


    Those elusive dreams
    Vivid and so real
    Living in bliss

    Evaporate rapidly
    With the morning sun
    As mist on the lake

    Eyes caked with sleep
    Not wanting to go
    Back to living

    With a yawn
    And a small stretch
    Conjures reality

    Flashes of awareness
    Erase the chalkboard
    Smearing your dreams

    Dreams melt away
    As icicles in the heat
    Dripping away

  13. headintheclouds87

    The Power of Dreams

    Familiar faces
    In strange places
    Friends mixed and matched
    In a nonsensical batch
    Old flames thought extinguished
    Burn brightly in dreamy mist

    This is the power of the night;
    To bring our past to light
    But by twisting and morphing it
    Into something surreally exciting
    Or perhaps a vague warning
    Of what waking future brings

    Either way we rise with a sweat
    Not knowing what to do next
    The bewitching power of dreams
    Where nothing is as it seems.

  14. Walter J Wojtanik

    SANCHO PANZA DREAMS, by Walter J Wojtanik

    I remain a servant to my liege,
    a right hand man at his command.
    My name Panza means “Belly”,
    and I ride with my fat @$s
    astride my donkey, Dapple.
    I give him an apple daily.
    Wisdom of words is not mine,
    but I find my narrative
    gives master some direction,
    misguided as he is. We crave
    “adventura” and I ride
    at his side. Don Quixote
    is strange but he manages
    to keep me interested.
    I haven’t rested since
    he’s defeated the giants
    with the sweeping arms
    and all the charms of the
    tilted windmills that they are.
    That was by far a great episode.
    I am every man, though I do not
    share my master’s delusional
    visions, I remain his ever-faithful
    companion, a realist,
    and the clever sidekick.
    Keeping his dreams alive
    impossible as they may seem!

  15. Walter J Wojtanik

    FUELED BY DREAMS, by Walter J Wojtanik

    for your dreams provide
    the visions of tomorrow.
    Borrow those nightly thoughts
    and ideas and see where you can go
    fueled by their fervent fire.
    They desire to take flight
    through the night, second star on the right
    and straight on until morning.

  16. Walter J Wojtanik

    SOME DREAM I HAD…, by Walter J Wojtanik

    I dreamed I was a skydiver.
    Alone with my chute, a real beaut,
    red and blue, silky
    with a milky white trim.
    I skimmed the clouds
    and shouted out loud as I fell,
    plummeting to earth.
    For what it’s worth, I bounced back
    very high. Nary a scratch, save for
    the lump and concussion
    from banging my cranium on the night stand.

    I dreamed I was an established musician,
    a magician with melody
    instead of a two fingered hack.
    I’d attack my keyboard
    and be assured that people would dance.
    Me, in my tight leather pants
    that would shred as I banged my head
    on the microphone stand.
    I’d be the man
    with the lump and concussion
    from banging my cranium.

    I dreamed I painted like Van Gogh,
    and you know I’d paint three eyed ladies,
    and babies invetro, waiting at Heathrow
    for the twelve twenty flight
    to the Isle of Wight. The colors would be
    appealing and the ceiling covered with spatter
    wouldn’t even matter. My canvas stretched
    on easel sturdy, with dried, dirty brushes
    and budgies hjiding in the rushes. But instead,
    I’d smash my head over on the Cliffs of Dover.
    Just a rover with a lump and concussion
    banging my cranium like a tribal percussion.

    I dreamed I was the Hunchback in the tower,
    daydreaming of the exotic flower, Esmerelda.
    She who mesmerized and of whom I’d fantasized.
    She really rang my bell. I could tell she knew
    not that I existed and she resisted all my advances.
    I took a chance and gave her wine,
    and a pack of jelly beans. (Yes, it was
    one of THOSE dreams!) And as the bells swung
    I got too close and rung one off of my skull.
    I didn’t fall, but I had a nasty lump (to match
    my hump) and a concussion. It seems
    I should wear my helmet when I dream!

  17. taylor graham


    Loki dreams of pizza crusts.
    She waited patiently in our little Honda
    in the parking lot for two hours
    while we shared poems around the table,
    and then the steaming pan of “the works”
    sliced in wedges.
    A dog waits and naps and dreams
    in poems without words, we call it pizza –
    communal blending of savors that fills
    us with cheer that has to do with
    poems around the table and pepperoni
    with crisp of green pepper, buckshot
    pepper sparkling melt of cheese on top.
    Loki knows our crusts are coming,
    and wayward parmesan on a paper plate.
    She favors leftovers with faintest
    scent of her master’s hand,
    a poem’s breath of praise
    on the crust.

  18. Christopher Allen

    Through air like mud we ran
    reaching for or running from

    You were screaming something to me
    “Do you love me” or possibly,
    “Choo Choo Rugby”

    Foggy hillside climb to meet the Sun
    Your martyrist offer to appease
    Chanting, dancing around fire with drums
    Shaman agrees It has been a dry spell

  19. julie e.


    I’ve been dreaming of houses
    all falling apart
    with faulty foundations and
    broken floorboards
    Safety is missing
    in that place

    But then they’re rebuilt with
    glowing wood floors
    and windows where sunshine
    pours through

    on a kitchen with table all
    circled by people
    and the chatter of bright
    happy voices

    The dusty, the broken becomes
    new creation
    These houses my heart
    born anew.

  20. brokenlens

    Tears of a broken clown

    He struggles to find his laugh.
    The clown straightens his tie, takes a shot of liquor, and staggers aimlessly in front of the mute crowd
    Darkness surrounds him.
    I laugh and point at the silly clown
    The clown notices the tears as they stream down his face and off his cheek.
    The clown walks over to the mirror stares at his reflection and begins to laugh uncontrollably .
    He notices the painted smile on his face and frantically tries to wipe it off.
    The intoxicated clown repositions himself in front of the mirror, staring violently at the crowd…. at me.

  21. Daniel Paicopulos

    Where Once We Dreamt of Dragons

    There are no more dragons,
    so they say, and we are
    all the poorer for it,
    come what may.
    What wondrous flight
    they might have taken,
    by day or night,
    on some far isle alight,
    to lay down eggs, begetting
    life of power and might,
    with fiery roar
    upon that distant shore.
    The ancients toiled
    in fear and strife,
    eyeing magic in the sky,
    a daily challenge to their life,
    with majesty at wing,
    lustrous green and gold,
    but not for you and I, they sing,
    there are no more dragons,
    we are told.
    How sad for modern man,
    facing the sunset of an
    evolutionary scheme,
    or perhaps, it is
    simply in God’s plan,
    that we don’t grandly dream.

  22. De Jackson

    Dandelion Fluff

    They say
    size doesn’t matter
    and then they say
    dream big,
    but I prefer these tiny breaths
    and the way the breeze
    teases my heart
    into flight.

    You blink
    at all that sacred spotlight;
    I think
    I’ll save myself
    in 40 winks
    and some slight
    semblance of phrase,
    or perhaps days
    spent listening
    to all these dragon clouds.


  23. taylor graham


    You had that mouse dream again?
    a single mouse poised like an omen
    with deep dark eyes looking
    straight at you. It woke
    you, so you lay there a long time
    listening to the dark.
    When you finally went back to sleep,
    a whole nest of mice scurried
    across the carpet, scooted
    under the bed, down the hall
    to the kitchen. There, one mouse
    reared up on hind legs, teeth
    gleaming in fluorescent light.
    Mice can mean so many different
    things in a dream.
    You’d better check your pantry.

  24. grcran

    Insurance Scheme/Dream

    Sad salesman hollered y’all are all in danger
    Insurance will protect you from your loss
    Just pay us twice as much as you are valued
    We’ll cover it no matter what it cost

    Went lookin’ for a world with no insurance
    Was wond’rin’ if it might look much the same
    Saw safety was inherent for a human
    Some relative of risk always remained

    Gave up my policy and took to writin’
    Lost ink but not as many dollar bills
    Got healthy saved some money went promotin’
    New ad campaign: “Who knew? Insurance kills.”

    gpr crane

  25. connielpeters

    A Memorable Dream

    Usually dreams wisp away
    before I’m fully awake,
    but this dream has stuck
    with me for weeks.

    I dreamed my son
    was still little, about five,
    rather than the large 33-
    year-old he is today.

    He wanted a cake
    to look like a grasshopper,
    (don’t ask me why)
    so I made him one.

    Then he wanted
    a grasshopper costume
    so I put one together
    and got an idea.

    I knew of a weather balloon
    that didn’t go high
    but bounced up and down
    kind of like a grasshopper.

    So I took my son
    where they were giving rides,
    but the ballooned whipped
    off into the wind above trees.

    I about abandoned the idea,
    when the wind calmed down
    and an adult climbed aboard
    to make sure it was safe.

    Then a mom and little daughter
    took a ride so, I decided we’d go,
    but by the time my son and I
    took our turn, the balloon lost air.

    It didn’t go very high, but enough
    to see a great volcanic forest fire
    heading our way, so we cried
    out warnings and everyone ran.

    Where we ran it was cold
    so people started passing
    out coats and it didn’t
    matter who they belonged to.

    But a friend who passed them out
    recognized mine and gave it to me.
    We dashed off until I wondered
    if we were still in danger.

    So my son and I climbed large steps
    and could see the fire had died out.
    So everyone stopped running.
    And that was my dream.

    Don’t know what the takeaway is.
    Never try to act like a grasshopper?
    Or maybe don’t eat chocolate candy
    before going to bed for the night.

  26. Daniel Paicopulos


    That dream again,
    the one where
    you’re away,
    just not there.
    First an airport
    I’ve never seen,
    then a house
    we’ve never been.
    The phone won’t
    work. Oh, now yes,
    but your number?
    I guess.
    Wrong again
    and now my legs
    quicksand bound,
    my heart begs
    for mercy from
    this endless chase,
    you’re never found,
    not one small trace.
    You’d likely think,
    after forty years,
    the dream would end,
    but still it appears.

  27. PowerUnit

    As dream is that last summer breeze
    tinged with orange, yellow, and red
    that is still too warm to cool
    but is fresh and new
    with hints of sleep.

    A dream is that day you shed
    your gown for hiking boots
    a backpack too large
    a ticket to Paris
    and a need to know what’s out there.

    A dream never comes true
    for if stars could be reached
    we’d be burned and melted
    reduced to where we started
    with no more dice-rolls.

  28. Anthony94

    After Watching Film Noir

    I’m crouched on the ledge
    above the fray all eighteen
    inches before space will hurtle
    me into the clawing and spitting

    the mountain lion lifted from
    some backwoods coat of arms
    leaping above a tiger splayed
    on the ground orange and black

    stripes vivid beneath the tawny
    coat of the cougar. I’ve no idea
    how the two have met except
    in the wilds of some sanctuary

    where an enclosure didn’t
    and a fence failed to
    so that the two rear and lunge
    below while my heart beats

    against the fabric of my shirt
    my screams floating above them
    twisting into STOP while I try
    not to slip from this ledge

    I want a window behind me
    to open but there is only wall
    swirled stucco pink beneath
    a red tiled roof the rising breeze

    lifting musk and feline sweat until
    it coats the locust leaves dancing
    above the stockade palings to the east
    while I watch and clutch my pillow

    1. k weber

      so intense! it’s like the essence of the film you watched completely disguised itself in such strong, powerful images and messages in your dream. it could have been something you ate (ha!) but having seen many films in that genre over the years i am fascinated with how the dark mysteries and night’s most vulnerable settings manifested in your dream!

    1. k weber

      so many thoughts and questions emerge after reading this! i love how you can write a few lines that yield a story with closure… but somehow much actually unfolds with greater curiosity upon a sscond reading! wow!

  29. taylor graham

    for W.L.S.

    He dreamed in green and golden,
    but big-city finance didn’t suit him.
    He headed for the motherlode, foothills
    brilliant green in springtime, going gold
    into summer, crowned with oak, pine, cedar.
    He staked a claim and panned for gold
    among greenstone. When that didn’t pan
    out, his dreams shifted to emerald –
    gemstones rare as green grass in August;
    rare as a partner to share the hard work
    of digging. Maybe it wasn’t emeralds
    he found, but crystal vesuvianite.
    Serpentine rock under his boot, butter-
    weed in flower. In the end it was the land
    he discovered, green and golden
    in its appointed seasons; his claim
    coming down to us in perpetuity.

  30. Jason L. Martin

    DREAM Acrostic

    Deadline set by your cursed subconscious to paint like Neruda.
    Realism is only accidental but typically overwhelmed by the fantastical.
    Envelope-backs sit on your nightstand where you’ve jotted the minutiae.
    Augmented fish, plane goes down, old girlfriend, black & white or pastel.
    Maybe it means I am supposed to do more with my life… or nothing at all.

  31. Not-Only But-Also Riley


    when you are abraham,
    and finally you see
    what all your life has
    worked toward, and
    you know you can
    trust him, because
    he said so, but,
    he needs your trust,

    will you grab that
    what used to be your son,
    but now they all are,
    and you their father,
    and who can tell the
    difference anyway?,
    and give him up to him
    and be the prophet and

    or will you love
    more than he could
    ever, this life
    he claims he made
    but can’t control?
    dreaming isn’t the
    time for decisions,
    or to show your face,
    let me see you with
    then we’ll talk.

  32. Daniel Paicopulos

    Dreams of Okauchee Past

    I’m told they
    still do fish fry
    in most corner taps
    on Friday nights,
    and all the big restaurants
    dim the lights,
    have an overpriced
    family style, la-di-dah flap.
    It’s not all fried, but it’s
    mostly frozen cod,
    and there’s too many potato choices
    and, yes, my god,
    they even, if you ask,
    serve salads
    instead of creamy cole slaw,
    which, honestly, should be
    against some foodie rules.
    Growing up in a rural village,
    there were only a few choices,
    Magowan’s and Roundy’s
    and my family’s favorite,
    by a chorus of voices,
    Stitch & Mary’s on the lake,
    with all the joy
    anyone could take.
    Friday was fish,
    always perch, always fried,
    and fries and cole slaw and little rye rounds.
    Saturday was chicken,
    always fried, to put on the pounds,
    and mashed potatoes and overcooked squash.
    The men all smoked, the woman danced,
    we kids played pinball, easily entranced,
    and drank some deliciously sweet lemon drink
    that led, I think, to type two diabetes.
    No wine that I remember,
    but lots of beer for the older ones,
    and usually an Old Fashioned,
    just to top off the fun.
    Sunday was church and a picnic,
    But not in the winter,
    and sometimes not the church part either.
    I’m pretty sure
    none of this was healthy,
    but living where
    we do now,
    with lots of specialties
    but no traditions, no wow,
    the memories are savory,
    the recollections sweet,
    and somehow we’re still standing
    on dream-filled feet.

  33. k weber

    I am (everything I ever) exhausted

    I dream
    of fever-
    and flight

    delays. I
    can’t cross
    my arms
    or distinguish

    of my lover
    or my
    attacker. I

    show up
    in story-

    and at church
    socials. Some-
    one scratches
    and sniffs

    my soul
    in the dark. I
    drop an egg
    but it’s gone

    until I drop
    one more. It’s
    gone until
    I yell

    but no
    sound. I didn’t
    for the final

    and I am
    pregnant. My
    teeth fall

    out, leave
    a bread-
    trail. I don’t

    want to be
    found. I hope
    I wake up
    and can’t

    as I quench
    my intact teeth
    with water

    from the glass
    top of this

  34. belovedfranklin

    On that dark and storm night Sirius howled
    From heaven and earth’s hounds responded
    The baying stirred the hearts of brothers bonded
    While fighting in Belgium’s Bulge, jowl to jowl
    Among those men one never waved a towel
    Red Baron shot enemies’ plans one by one
    But England’s flyboys fought back with a scowl
    One dark and stormy night, Snoopy dreams
    Atop his house, scarf fluttering in mid-stream

    Darlene Franklin

  35. belovedfranklin


    Once in the forest of my dreams
    I run with ease, not stops and starts,
    to frolic on the Lord’s playground.
    I follow currents, plot a chart.
    Stare in their depths—much life is found.
    While rafting slow across the streams.
    In meadows close where flowers abound
    See snakes and rabbits, creatures teem
    Birds overhead see food and dart
    Let’s worry not, their wisdom deems
    Their Cheering ears with ringing sounds
    I only wish I were as smart
    God made all this! Hearts to astound
    In everything His life imparts
    He makes my troubles smaller seem
    In the forest of my dreams

    Darlene Franklin

  36. Ann M

    Summer is already a dream
    of sunflowers and starry skies
    when I climbed pink rocks
    to see the lighthouse
    and swam in a warm sea.

    Now fog lowers overhead
    and a storm is twisting
    to the east. Yesterday,
    daughters read the names
    of mothers, and petals
    fell on concrete.

    Autumn came so quickly,
    the geese flock on the field,
    my neighbor has died.
    There’s no time to waste.
    Tomorrow is now.


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