#329 Dreaming Eyes Poem by Jimmie Arrington

I awake. I sleep. I compare the two,
As if there was something to compare.
That’s life. That’s me. That’s just what I do.
Look at that hill. See that black oak chair?
Well of course you don’t, it’s not really there,
But my dreaming eyes say it’s majestically fair.

So let’s climb this hill and have a seat,
Let’s see what dreaming eyes see.
But instead of climbing with our feet,
Let’s use these wings appearing suddenly.
Now we’re here. Look! There’s the North Sea,
Just next to that glowing golden tree.

To our left is the Eiffel Tower,
To our right is the renowned Big Ben.
The field below us looks like one large flower,
But it’s actually myriad cyclamen.
How impolite, where have my manners been?
Are you hungry? Would you like a slice Turducken?

Perhaps some ginger ale to wash it down
And some custard tart before the ball?
Wear any color you like: green, blue or brown,
Or travel someplace where it’s always fall.
Let’s see, reality or lucid dreams? As I recall,
There’s really nothing to compare at all.