Writings and waves

Half remembered dreams flow in the river of my mind
I chase them through the hours
Retreating to fragments of dreams I go to find
But to neglected pastures these dreams are bound

One time I got so close 
as If with my hand I could hold them near
I had parts of dreams all brightly strung 
Thinking with what I had I could get along
But sure enough 
As soon as they came they were gone
They were -as I keep my house- neatly stacked but all round
And to sand they went
Through my fingers they fell to the ground
Back to half remembered dreams in the river of my mind they are bound