Escaping the Vines

I dreamed that I was tangled up in vines too numerous to count (such slender twines). They’d somehow crept upon me in the night. It felt so real, this strangely “twisted” plight! I tried to move, but I could not break loose. My face and limbs were wreathed, each in a noose. Fresh fear set in. I writhed and writhed about, then realized I’d have to wait it out. In time, the vines were clearer to my eyes. Their peril was a pleasure in disguise, And instantly, I knew just what to do! I turned into a mouse so I might chew. . . My nightmare had become a child’s fond wish. . . I set forth nibbling cherry strands of licorice! For Frank Herrera's "Dream" poetry contest