At Dreams End

Best to bottle then?

Nicer not to thrust and hustle?

Count cherries in the yard

chink a little

trace my life line

with a smooth finger tip?


No more boom cha

rika rika

dim dim dim whoosh

No more lashing, beating, fending,

roaring, bombing out,

seething, slashing, burning?


Just the gnawing tinnitus of a discarded dream.


Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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