Sleepy Thoughts are Spiders.

Spinning their web.

Sleepy thoughts are spiders,  Crawling through my head. They spin their silk of seductive slumber, Into a montage of memories. They tease their way past the crevices, And hug the walls of secrets. Past the skeletons in well-worn closets, And on to the monsters under the bed. They swing past portraits of indecision And crawl beyond the stash of embarassments. They seek the chest of possibility, In an attempt to fill my dreams.

And so they open the box, It’s hinges creaking from disuse. And find the glorious treasure within And bring it forth to be used. A gift for the sandman, perhaps, I cannot claim to know. For the spells the Dreamweaver casts,  Afflict both high and low.

But the critters, my sleepy thoughts,  In their tangle through my mind,  Have not only brought possibility,  But everything else they did find.  From the skeletons and secrets,  To the monsters and embarassments,  They bring it all to the Dreamweaver,  Carried in their web’s entanglements.

And here she casts her spell,  After the Sandman’s wave is past.  And into the land of dreams This gentle sleeper is cast.  What I will find, I do not know,  I can only wish good fare,  Be it sun, Be it storms,  Be it terrifying nightmare.  And to the spiders, My sleepy thoughts,  I wish a lovely night.  We shall meet again, on tomorrow’s whim,  But till then, Goodnight

#Dreams #Night #Poetry #Sleep