Hypnotist Days Calling Me

Sleepy lit nights that I miss so much, Conscious alterations of superficial happiness invaded, Artificially flavored dreams tasting so sweetly in slumber, Separated by guiltless waves never crashing on my mind, Gazing at flickering shiny lights that talked to me, Suggestive thought powers that held my past in suspension, Far off trusted voice speaking soothing probing words, Senses tumbling in that warm unthinking cavern, Where my memories were allowed to live again. Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved "A poem to me is the essence of any thought, Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky. It can fly like no other bird to places never seen, Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place." © 2014 Robert William Gruhn