Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
The Deadly Speckled Birches (Smoking/Cigarettes)
Vika and I walked in a thick forest of birches white and spotted.
And many boulders of white lime with black lichens dotted.
A thick fog rolled slowly toward like a pudding, creamy and clotted.
Something moved behind a fallen speckled log that fog and time have rotted.
A wild pack of Dalmatians ahead of the fog then trotted.
Stalking us through the birches, what evil had these dogs plotted.
We retreated down a hill toward our cabin – our stomachs were knotted.
I grabbed a fallen branch and at the nearest one I swatted
But we can’t shake the pack – was this all the time the Lord allotted?
Now, the leader jumps upon a rock and there he perches.
And I remember the lesson we had been taught at our churches.
God will grant strength and deliverance to he who asks and searches.
And so I ask “God please deliver us from this deadly glade, this pack of birches.”
And the leader howled the order and we ran for the cabin porches.
Charcoal from a smoldering campfire my white shoe besmirches.
And the fog tried to envelop us as we ran in sprints and lurches.
And I wake from my nightmare and all my soul researches.
What warning could this be - the deadly glade of pack, fog, rock, and birches?
I walk outside and light a smoke – and understand what I dreamed
The vicious foggy white and spotted birches are realer than they seemed.
Oh God, grant us the power over addiction, that we may be redeemed.
Note: It has been about a year and half since I had this dream, and I was able to quit shortly thereafter.
poem
by
Daniel Partlow
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black