A Country Girl's Writing

Inspired by the picture I am using for this blog post. I have never experienced dreaming about my own death but I know people who have. It raises the question what is the reason for people to dream about their death?   The waves tossed and turned throwing walls of water continually over my head.  I could barely breath. Every time my head emerged to the surface in was pushed under again in to a swell of water. The swell would spin me around which to me seemed to be forever. Then it would spit me out and the cycle would happen again. I wanted to get away from all the water, but there was no land or boats in sight. I felt hopeless and as time passed I didn't fight for a breath of air. I became so tired that eventually I felt my body start to sink down.  I looked up. Light was shinning through the water as I went down, down, and down. There was a thud on the ocean floor where my body laid to rest. I booted up straight as a door nail and ripped of my blankets. "It...

Bare feet hit the floor. A strong smell of smoke. An alarm that went off. Frantic people that run 'round. Doors smashed. Windows broken. All tried to leave the house. Risked their lives, An got everyone out. Up went the house in flames. At the nights end, To the ground it was burned. Nothing but ashes, lay in a mound.

My head is spinning in rounds, At every idea of you. I am feeling a little bound; Like were stuck together like glue.  Thrown together in a heap. Lacks our notion or consent. Stuck here having no place to leap, To avoid all this discontent. What am I supposed to do? Now, to free myself from you. I could just drive on through, Or sit and wait while I stew.  I could try and play it cool; But would I lie like a fool. No one would like that point of view. Oh what am I supposed to do?  By Evelyn Creon