Tag Archives: sleep

Last Night I Was Somewhere Called Nowhere

Last night I was somewhere
Called nowhere
For there
I stood
In the dark wood
Of dreams,
Wherein
Virtue and sin
Are merely seeming,
For we are dreaming.

‘Tis a fine
Line
Twixt the living and the dead.
The head,
So full of thought
Is, suddenly, nought
And many
Men
Creep
Away In sleep.

To some death is the final despair,
The never ending nightmare
For None can escape
Death’s suffocating cape.
Yet, if we know not that we are dead
Why dread
The final dreamless sleep,
The dust,
Into which we all must
One day, creep?

In The Chaos Of Our Dreams

In the chaos
Of our dreams
We experience a loss
Of the control
That we, in waking hours maintain
And the oh so fragile pane,
Shatters, revealing our soul.
‘Tis good that none but we
Can see
How our consciousness streams,
Out of control, in dreams.

A Girl In A Dress Of Red

A girl in a dress
Of red
I dreamed in bed.
And I confess
That she
Has stayed with me.

Red may scream
Danger ahead,
But ’twas merely
A dream,
Though she
Has stayed with me.

Lethe

Why must
I dwell on dust
On this sunny day?
‘Tis the thought that all this will fade away,
Yet there is still time to play
Ere the sun
Does run
Into the arms
Of night.

Sometimes I think
Her charms
Are sweet,
For who has not forgot
Regret in the arms
Of sleep?

The river of lethe
May take us unawares.
Vacant stares
We bestow
On family and friends
For we know
Them not.

I think ’tis better to die
Than to lose the plot
And linger on
Though one’s essence has gone.

But the weather is hot
And there is yet time to play
Ere my day runs away
Into lethe
Or with luck, I shall avoid
The void
Of memories loss
And pass, direct, instead
To the land of the dead
For it is the knowing
That one’s faculties are going
That fills me with dread.

The Reaper of Grain

I am rested today.
I shall stay that way,
Getting plenty of sleep
But, sooner or later
This prater
Will, his toil
Cease, and find peace
In nature’s good soil,
For I maintain
That none can foil
The reaper of grain.

Fantasies Come Out In Dreams

Fantasies come out in dreams
When consciousness streams
Unopposed.
Her clothes
Are lost
At no cost
To the dreamer or to her.
And, come the morn
The dreamer is from his fantasy torn
And the wolf returns to his lair.
But, have a care
Lest in sleep
You her name speak
For respectability is a thin veil
And friends would turn pale
Where they to know
Where you go
In sleep