(Art by Michelle Sheen)

Creative Writing

Poem: Midnight Dreams

I sit in the quiet library and listen To the tepid ticking of the large grandfather clock And the gentle scratches of pencil meeting paper.   A familiar tune drifts through the room and I hum along. Dropping my pencil, I lean back in my chair, and a sudden wind picks me up, Launching me…
<a href="https://highschool.latimes.com/author/msheen114/" target="_self">Michelle Sheen</a>

Michelle Sheen

September 20, 2021

I sit in the quiet library and listen

To the tepid ticking of the large grandfather clock

And the gentle scratches of pencil meeting paper.

 

A familiar tune drifts through the room and I hum along.

Dropping my pencil, I lean back in my chair, and a sudden wind picks me up,

Launching me into a cloudless blue sky.

 

Stepping onto the brightly checkered picnic blanket,

The aroma of rose tea and velvet cookies wafts through the air,

Like honey spilling through the sky.

 

Leaping into the pasture, 

I let my bare feet touch the dewy grass– breathing in the fresh air–

And gather a bouquet of lavender flowers from up on the hill.

 

Dancing through the air, I land on a wooden seat

and swing myself above the homely village as

The breeze picks up my hair and sends curls flying behind me.

 

Twirling into the ballroom, I grab a fistful of my gown,

And waltz into the circle of dancers, who glide like swans across the varnished floor.

The symphony and bright lights blind me into an ecstasy–a euphoria I’ve never felt before. 

 

I jolt awake from the dream.

The joyous images fade ever so slightly,

And all I am left with is the pile of papers sitting in front of me.