Rising Asleep and Waking Down


What a backwards world!

We’d rise to our dreams

And plunge back down,

Away from the strange land,

To find ourselves back in our head

At the alarm clock’s call

Waking down in the middle of the night

Is always quite awful;

Kicked out of Cloud Nine

Because our hosting bed was complaining.

Insomniacs must be very down-to-earth,

And deep-sleepers are likely heavy dreamers,

Eager to escape.

Turning the Doorknob


Through the door,

Red, polished, a simple gateway

Silver knob and golden key

Silent in its slender presence,

But inside is joy and glee

Wreath and mat adorn its structure

Yet its soul is simply wood

Many dreams and races and people

Have crossed the threshold

To the exciting world beyond

But fewer seen within

We are all mobile doorways

Shall we move out or in?