A Dream
What does this resting lady?
She has done nothing but sleep lately.
She talks as she dreams.
She talks of lying on a flower bed
Trapped between two roaring streams,
With a log as a pillow for her head.
She wakes as night turns to day,
And in the morning wind the trees begin to sway.
As all the birds begin to flirt,
Two creatures emerge from the dirt;
One a smooth calm creature
The other rough, alive, and larger.
They approach her as she is caught in fright,
Because she knows not who to trust
They suddenly scream and start to fight,
All because of coveting lust,
To gain or lose the fair maiden.
Will it be the gentle or the heathen?
From their yelling she picks out names;
There is calm Sleep and Awake the untame.
Then they quickly race toward the stream,
To get to her before she ends her dream.
They take a step then leap ,and toss
Their bodies in that river non could cross.
She knows not who to help,
As they both begin to yelp.
"Do I save calm Sleep,
And let Awake brave the deep;
Or do I save Awake,
For sleep to break."
As she debates
To choose her mate,
She grabes for calm Sleep,
And begins to sink in the flowers, deep.
This dream of hers, she never will beat;
For she chooses the same forever to repeat...
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