Ode to Sandman, par O.C. Bearheart

O.C. Bearheart

Ode to Sandman

I owed him money.

Morpheus, my alt’ring friend

I would coax you close to me.

For my weary day is at an end,

So the help I ask of thee

Is to put rest my esprit.

Detailed pictures painted

As my lids begin to close,

Not a single image tainted

Nor one struck stroke laid with prose:

Now I plead for a repose.

For those perfect, brilliant visions

Are a glimpse into a soul

Fallen prey to times’ incisions,

Though each tear and every hole

Is a means of your cajole.

Now here within my slumber

All my hopes and dreams are real,

Ev’ry feeling unencumbered,

Ev’ry ordered thought surreal:

What I would give to be unreal.

(2015)

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O.C. Bearheart

Ode to Sandman

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