Best Sandman Poems
I am the tide a ceaseless tide
drifting afar from sheltered shores
From solaced paths of wide-spread sands
where all my waters have become yours
I am the tide a ceaseless tide
rising up high beyond the line
Burnt orange line where half moon rests
between hushed ocean and twilight sky
I am the tide a ceaseless tide
anchored in thoughts with no return
I 'll keep on rolling keep getting distant
from blissful moments which we once shared.
I'll keep escaping a thousand butterflies
that swiftly flutter in rocky caves
I'll keep remembering smiles on lost laugh- lines
where sea-spumes kissed your upturned face
I am the tide a ceaseless tide
You are the sandman who walks out late
I watched you standing by the blue light-house
drawing two hearts without a name
I saw you gazing into the distance
I wondered if you're setting sails...
to a horizon without an hourglass
where your arms sink in my embrace
When the Sandman’s near
I can almost hear
his soft footsteps breaking ground.
With his tender touch
my eyes feel so much
as he sprinkles sand around.
I don’t want to sleep
but I want to keep
all the dreams he has for me.
So I welcome sand
from his gentle hand
and I drift off peacefully.
April 12, 2021
* Nursery Rhyme 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Poetry form: The Alouette
The Alouette poetry form invented by Jan Turner view at:
http://shadowpoetry.com/resources/wip/alouette.html
Hush, his toes creep,
Dusting sleep, those
Lost deep in dreams ...
His stardust strewn -
Riding moonbeams
To swoon the night ...
Dream-laden eyes,
'Til eve dies, soft
Will rise, the dawn.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Any Theme Than Bauk" Poetry Contest
Charles Messina, Judge & Sponsor.
Sleepy head, it's time for bed
For it is late indeed,
Time to meet the Sandman
And ride your favourite steed.
Your dreams can take you anywhere
As they weave their magic spell,
Tucked up nice and snug in bed
You can ride your carousel.
How wondrous the adventures
As you ride him through the night,
You, he, and all his friends
In joyous, dream filled flight.
Daughter of the Sandman
War-story woman stands astride
the country now,
book-store tour bleary now,
author hands aching
from signing the $20.99
paperback professing her father’s
Marne Corps Desert Storm glory now.
Book-tour daughter
lays inside the hotel room now,
calling her shattered dad
across the gulf,
calling the shaking-hands dad man
“Geppetto” because,
when she calls,
he is always in the workshop basement
of her childhood,
still struggling with band saws
against protesting wood.
War-story woman asks the first-draft
question that has tied down
her mind, even during
her best-seller tour,
for so long now:
How well did she write the smell
of a burning man?
The sanding-dad Geppetto,
exhales against his labor,
says that her words were enough
to peel the covers from hard-backed
leathernecks in the Kuwaiti desert,
circa 1990 -
seethes through his teeth,
says how he can smell
the roasted beef of muscle,
sulfur stink of hair,
sticky-sweet spinal fluid
spiraling up
like a black-cloud desert jinn,
how her work makes him
proud, but that, now,
he must hide in his workshop,
in his work,
in this room,
to honor his writer daughter
and build his bookshelves
even wider.
It’s night time I hear white windy breeze
Making a song with pines blowing trees
Likewise I hear a siren far away
First responders on the move to save
Life of someone in critical need
Listen to there cries and heart beat
Or maybe a baby is being birthed
Good and bad days for them at work
Strange enough the cicadas are quiet
I guess it’s too cold even crickets are silent
Not hearing music or many cars at all
My muse is fast asleep as soon I shall fall
Carry my bags sandman if you can
From under brown eyes in tan hands
Fighting the urge to write until five
When morning birds will sing of light
Hush now, all little children by the shadows of night,
Don’t resist, beware let the sleep take you, be at an uneasy peace,
For resistance is futile against this dream stalker,
Whom travels on the brain waves, of the unconscious mind?
Apparitions Spector, a vaporous wraith living on our inner
Deepest fears, a vampire of nightmares, feasting at the
Edge of panics scream, hidden is he beneath the layers
Of our worst horrific night terrors.
Comprehensions undetectable intruder, a burglar forcing
Entry by the elliptical moons anti rational sliding door,
A corporeal beast, thriving on the adrenaline rush,
Of the flight or freight, factors throbbing heart beat!
He this untouchable, whom slides his icy fingertips down
The backs of humanity, causing the fine hairs our necks
To rise and flair, a tip toeing sadist walking the delicate
Tightrope of our thin vail of dreams, than striking at us
With dreads demonic weapon, as we the innocent
Victim slumbers in depths deepest REM sleep.
Oh is he not the bogeyman's sandman, with his dark
Seeded bag of mischievous tricks, cast over his silhouetted
Shoulder, sneaking in the hallowed shadows of the nights
Blackened embrace.
An invisible phosphorus troll, existing without form or mass,
Slithering as a nocturnal snake, hunting the stilled warm
Embodied essence of humanity while we sleep,
And laughing at us this vaporous jackal, while we
Choke on his black nightmarish moon dust of death.
Pray faithful child beneath the illusions of the lit divide,
For guardians protection while thy rest,
So you may awaken in the warming breath. of
The next morning’s sunrise, for at night the
Demon of nightmares stalks for the hearts of the
Innocence and he takes no prisoners.
Now some may say that this mythical legend is
Just a story to scare little children, to make them
Go to sleep at night without a fight.
But others know the real truth about this
Spirit beast of olden times, these the watchers
Of dreams, and they say beware the sandman,
For he is always waiting, aware, lying in the
Blackness abyss of mankind's nightmares.
A child's pray,
Now I lain me down to sleep,
I pray the lord my soul to keep,
For if I shall die before I wake,
I wish the lord my soul to keep,
And not the sandman to take!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Sandy the Sandman.
Was a super duper dude.
With a surfboard pack and a seashell nose
and two eyes made out of food.
Sandy the Sandman.
Would always love to play.
He was made of sand,
but the lifeguards know
how he came to life one day.
There must have been some magic
in those swimming trunks they found,
for when they placed them on his legs
he began to swim around.
Oh, Sandy, the Sandman.
Swam so far out in the sea
and the lifeguards say
he would swim all day,
further than you and I can see.
Swishy, swoosh, splash, swishy, swoosh, splash
Look at Sandy's zest!
Swishy, swoosh, splash, swishy, swoosh, splash
He's simply the best!
Oh, Sandy the Sandman.
Knew the sun won't shine all day,
so he said, "Let's surf, and we'll have some fun
before the moon comes back to stay."
Wave upon wave
with a surfboard in his hand.
Surfin' high and low
against ripples fast and slow
Sayin', "Catch me if you can"
Even the fishies decided to surf along,
till he led them too close to the shore,
right to the lifeguard's hut,
where he fell off his board
when he heard them holler "Stop!"
Hmm, Sandy the Sandman
Fishies can't lie on the beach!
So he waved them bye, sayin' "See you at sunrise
when the sun looks like a peach."
Swishy, swoosh, splash, swishy, swoosh, splash
Look at Sandy's zest!
Swishy, swoosh, splash, swishy, swoosh, splash
He's simply the best!
Mr. Sandman
He's all I want
He's all I need
You’re the sandman
In my dreams
Only you understand
What to do in a nightmare
You hold my hand
So I won't shout or scream
You’re the sandman
In my dreams
In love is how it seems
In love with you by day
Sleeping with you by night
Dancing to the music of the band
Romancing me under the moonlight
With the one and only
Mr. Sandman
S.K.A.T. POETRY
He comes, a seaside golem,
walking like Frankenstein’s monster
because sand has filled the crack in his
behind, and his feet are shod in at least
two pounds of beach.
He carries his pail and shovel.
“Mommy, I have fun!” he chirps.
And I love him in spite of his sandy behind,
in spite of the leaden feet
and the grit in his hair,
in spite of the fact that I know who’ll be
removing the sand.
I love him because he’s my golem,
and, well, he had fun.
Sandy is why
you need
to take heed
and move your guise
a lining
is in the sky
silver is the color
and the money is fly
.
honey…
it’s in the love
that I’m writing
.
to ‘you’
.
a storm
is coming
it's true.
Can't sleep.
can't eat.
write words.
repeat.
until I fall
Hey Mr Sandman can you help me sleep
I’ve lost the love of my life; all I do is weep
Sprinkle your magic into my eye
Help me forget him so I won’t cry
My head hits the pillow; I have a heavy heart
Never dreamed it would be so hard being apart
I know I must move on, but it’s early days
I miss him so much in oh so many ways
I’ve spent many hours just counting sheep
My head is pounding and I’m craving sleep
Sprinkle moonbeams down on me
Let me be at peace so I am finally free
Jan Allison
10th August 2014
Each night as into sleep I go,
Oh, may my true love’s face I see.
Oh, Sandman, please do not be slow.
Each night as into sleep I go,
dust my eyes with a magic glow.
In sweet dreams may I with him be.
Each night as into sleep I go,
Oh, may my true love’s face I see.
Each night as into sleep I go,
Oh, Sandman, please do not be slow.
Dust my eyes with a magic glow.
In sweet dreams may I with him be.
Oh, may my true love’s face I see
and slumber steal my grief from me.