Under The Spell Of Sleep Poem by Paula Glynn

Sleep is taking me to a different place,
It is as if I am flying in another time and space,
Where no two places are the same,
For it is as if I am caught in a game:
Where I fly through matter and material,
Like a ghost in the wind,
But this soul has not sinned,
Yet asks for a sign to see the route she must go,
For dreams are like a river that flows,
Sometimes hot, sometimes cold,
But always under the spell of sleep,
Like a person entering a film on the silver screen,
Where different scenes are felt and seen,
Like a tiger roaming in a strange, bizarre dream,
And scene follows scene through the spell of sleep,
And this soul cannot wake from the odd nightmare,
Where nothing is as it seems, where there are silent screams,
Yet every night I dream and dream,
Like a character on the silver screen.