#missysmadchallenge #115
Your challenge for this week
– I wandered into the forest looking for my lost dog and stumbled upon a clearing where people’s forgotten dreams grew like flowers.
Missy’s MAD Challenge # 115
The Garden of Forgotten Dreams
#missysmadchallenge
I wandered into the forest looking for my lost dog and stumbled upon a clearing where people’s forgotten dreams grew like flowers.
It all started with Bella.
One moment, she was sniffing around the garden, minding her own business. The next, she had disappeared through a gap in the fence, carrying one of my socks.
Again.
“Bella! Come back here, you little thief!”
Nothing.
Not even the familiar sound of paws racing through the undergrowth.
I followed the trail into the forest, muttering about stubborn dogs and the questionable intelligence of chasing a sock thief before finishing my coffee.
But something was different.
The trees seemed taller.
The air smelled of lavender and rain, although the ground was dry.
And somewhere ahead, I could hear music.
Not ordinary music.
It sounded like a thousand forgotten melodies being played at once.
Then the trees opened into a clearing.
I stopped.
Flowers stretched as far as I could see, glowing in colours I had no names for.
Silver roses shimmered beneath invisible moonlight.
Golden lilies hummed softly.
Tiny bluebells rang whenever the breeze touched them.
And above the flowers floated little fragments of memories.
A child laughing.
A ballerina spinning.
A young man holding a guitar.
An elderly woman painting the sea.
“What on earth…?”
“Welcome to the Garden of Forgotten Dreams.”
I turned.
An old woman stood beneath an enormous willow tree. Her hair was silver, her eyes the colour of twilight, and butterflies rested on her shoulders.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“The Keeper.”
“Keeper of what?”
She smiled.
“Of everything people once dreamed of becoming.”
I looked around.
“All these flowers?”
“Every single one.”
She touched a purple rose.
A vision appeared above it.
A little girl stood on a stage, singing with all her heart.
“She wanted to become an opera singer,” the Keeper explained. “But someone told her she wasn’t good enough.”
The rose trembled.
“She believed them.”
We walked further.
A golden sunflower held the dream of a boy who wanted to explore the stars.
A white orchid carried the wish of a woman who had always wanted to write a book.
A blue iris held the dream of someone who wanted to travel the world but never dared leave home.
“Why are they here?” I whispered.
“Because dreams don’t die simply because people stop believing in them.”
I looked at the endless flowers.
“Then why do some look so sad?”
The Keeper sighed.
“Because they’re waiting.”
“For what?”
“For someone to remember.”
Suddenly, I heard barking.
“Bella!”
There she was, sitting proudly beside a cluster of purple flowers, my stolen sock hanging from her mouth.
“Honestly, you little Houdini!”
She wagged her tail.
Then she dropped the sock onto the largest flower.
Its petals opened.
And I saw myself.
Not as I am now.
But as a little girl, sitting beside a window with a notebook in her lap.
She was writing poetry.
Then the vision changed.
A young woman stood behind DJ decks, surrounded by music and laughter.
Another appeared, looking through a telescope at the stars.
Then came a woman sitting quietly with a guitar, trying to find the words to a song.
I felt tears gathering.
“These are mine.”
The Keeper nodded.
“Some of them.”
“But I haven’t forgotten all of these.”
“No,” she replied. “You’ve begun remembering.”
I watched the purple flowers glowing.
For years, life had taken unexpected turns.
Some dreams had been buried beneath responsibilities.
Others beneath heartbreak.
And some had simply been placed on a shelf with the promise of one day.
I had thought those dreams were gone.
But here they were.
Still alive.
Still waiting.
“Can I take them home?” I asked.
The Keeper smiled.
“You already have.”
I frowned.
“Look at your hands.”
My fingers were glowing with tiny purple sparks.
Words.
Musical notes.
Fragments of unfinished poems.
Ideas I hadn’t yet dared to write.
“Every time you create something,” she said, “another forgotten dream finds its way home.”
I looked towards Bella.
She was now attempting to dig up a golden tulip.
“Bella! Leave that alone!”
The Keeper laughed.
“Your little companion seems to understand something many humans forget.”
“That socks are irresistible?”
“That sometimes you must wander away from the familiar to discover what you’ve been missing.”
I sighed.
“Please don’t encourage her.”
The Keeper bent down and picked a tiny silver flower.
“This one is for you.”
“What dream does it hold?”
“One you haven’t dreamed yet.”
Before I could ask another question, the clearing began to fade.
The flowers dissolved into starlight.
The music became the rustling of leaves.
And suddenly, I was standing at the edge of the forest.
Bella sat beside me.
My sock was still in her mouth.
Of course.
I looked down.
In my hand lay a tiny silver flower.
Its petals shimmered softly.
And when I brought it close to my ear, I heard a melody.
One I had never heard before.
I smiled.
Perhaps tomorrow I would write another song.
Perhaps another poem.
Perhaps something entirely unexpected.
Because I had discovered something wonderful in that enchanted clearing.
Not every dream we leave behind is lost.
Some are simply waiting for us to find the path back.
And sometimes…
That path begins with a naughty dog stealing your sock.
#missysmadchallenge #TheGardenOfForgottenDreams #MagicalRealism #ForgottenDreams #CreativeWriting #TheAfterloveVoice
DJ Maggie is in the house 🎧
My two new songs are out .
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
My song is out on streaming platforms 💜
https://ditto.fm/silenced-but-not-broken
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