A Mead Of Sleep Poem by Ananta Madhavan

Late last night,
When the day was done,
And the dawn had not yet seeped
Into the sky in its flush and blush,
I got a mead of sleep:
Sleep elusive, sleep delusive,
A mead of gracious sleep.

What if reality is but a dream?
Hope it is not unpleasant;
Or, if it lingers on awakening,
Hope it will be deleted from
The scroll of complex memory,
The unread lore of amnesia,
The unread text of oblivion.

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5 March,2016