The Snore of a Bore

I dreamt I said, ‘Hullo, Fellow’ on her pink plumage pillow When from my blue sky grew and flew a sentimental swallow That told me to fold my arms and grow calm because it didn’t matter anymore As the etiquette of entire episode chose to metamorphose into a sappy snore. I dreamt life no longer brought, caught or taught strident strife When for the umpteenth time a series of memories drew me to my lost life Taken away from my puny pay on a gray Wintry Wednesday Leaving my heart bleeding, begging and weeping every day. I dreamt I lost my post as teacher to become a preacher When a sermon I delivered reminded me I wasn’t a true blue bleacher Who in the twinkling of an eye could turn ebony black into snow white Praying hard for God to restore a sinner’s succor and salvation right. I dreamt sanity and vanity from my mind vowed to quit When by force of booze I succeeded in losing my wit Indulging instead the bedstead of lampoon language That infiltrated and integrated every fabric of my every message.