Hi Sally,
I'm intruiged by how the rhythm controls this piece. It's a fascinating 
example of how odd-numbered lines need the following even-numbered line to 
complete their pictures. It's as if it's a 7 long-lined poem as much as it's 
a 14-er.
I guess it's the rhythm that makes me think: Victorian - and some of the 
phrases have a kind of genteelness associated with them - but then I start 
thinking of the "footless boot that whispers..." and recognise, among 
phrases that are perhaps intending to lull me towards feeling soft and 
sentimental, there's something surreal, something very bizzare, in here as 
well!
Bob


>From: Sally James <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: new sub In my dreams
>Date: Thu, 15 Jul 2004 03:05:41 +0100
>
>In my dreams
>
>I no longer search in faceless crowds
>and hover round the silent phone
>or pine for mailings never sent
>and stare outside from windowpanes
>or listen for the footless boot
>that whispers down the grassy path
>Nor do I visit age-old haunts
>re- capturing the love that’s lost
>Instead I curl up with my books
>I tend my garden, walk the dogs
>and sit on benches in the shade
>and close my eyes and think of him
>
>Who vanished like he’d never been
>for what once was real is now a dream.
>
>
>
>Sally James
>
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