Found this interesting poem contrasting reality and dream

Winter Sleep

by Edith Matilda Thomas

I know it must be winter (though I sleep)--

I know it must be winter, for I dream 

I dip my bare feet in the running stream, 

And flowers are many, and the grass grows deep. 

I know I must be old (how age deceives!) 

I know I must be old, for, all unseen, 

My heart grows young, as autumn fields grow green 

When late rains patter on the falling sheaves. 

I know I must be tired (and tired souls err)-- 

I know I must be tired, for all my soul 

To deeds of daring beats a glad, faint roll, 

As storms the riven pine to music stir. 

I know I must be dying (Death draws near)-- 

I know I must be dying, for I crave 

Life--life, strong life, and think not of the grave, 

And turf-bound silence, in the frosty year. 

Today's poem is in the public domain.