Day 58: Dream to Wake

Dream to Wake
by
Matt Zurbo

 

Harriet used to go to sleep
like any other kid,
and dream and dream and dream,
as if that’s all she did.

Falling, climbing, flying,
strange creatures about,
some furry with big horns,
others a real long snout.

Each morning Harriet would wake,
not remembering a dot.
Dreams forgotten, each night wasted,
made her a grumpy sot.

So Harriet got a pen,
wrote all of her dreams down,
before they could run away,
lost as the day was found.

Suddenly Harriet’s mornings,
filled with brilliant, strange thoughts,
lingering feelings of joy,
fear, laughter, sensations of all sorts.

Sometimes it felt so much like
she was still walking on the moon,
or drifting across badlands,
in a strangely shaped balloon.

Soon enough, to her horror,
Harriet’s dreams would not stop.
The line between sleep and wake
had dropped altogether off.

Gooblets followed her everywhere,
flowers grew until she might drown,
strange creatures carried Harriet
across harsh, perilous ground.

She could barely hear her teacher,
over a mermaid’s call,
and, due to jungle drums,
not hear her mum and dad at all!

“This has got to stop,” she wailed.
“There’s too much going on in my head!”
If my dreams don’t let up,
I might soon be dead!”  

Harriet went to see a doctor,
dream or real she did not know,
to tell him of the tug of war,
real and dream, to and fro.

While giving good advice,
the doctor grew thee more heads,
so little Harriet decided
the answers lay in her bed.

That night she made a strong point,
to dream of a hammock on a beach,
on which she swung peacefully,
while she got some sleep!

By day her world was chaos,
everything up for grabs.
A circus of the bizarre,
fairies, goblins, giant crabs.

By night, though, things were simple,
she dreamed of a cooling breeze,
lazing in a field,
sleeping amongst the trees.

When she slept she imagined,
getting all her homework done.
Spelling this and that,
solving her math sums.

The Sandman would bring with him,
the chores she had to do,
the books she wanted to read,
and her playtime, too

So, if you see a little girl walking like
she has groobly gooblets on her head,
that’s just loopy Harriet,
who’s dreams follow her from bed.

And, if you don’t remember your dreams,
maybe best don’t fret.
Better to imagine while awake,
and have far less regrets

The End

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