deepundergroundpoetry.com

The God of Sleep

The mind works best after a proper dream
Of innermost image intermix
Through the knotty neurologic regime
And the heterodoxy sleep inflicts
On the artless heaps of diurnal thought
Recycling cliche into more cliche
Until boredom itself is overwrought
In an elaborate, rococo way
To enchant itself onto a blank page
Where college rule, in power benign,
Aligns all ruminations in a cage...
Like freezing the bubbles of sparkling wine
When cogitation shows esprit de corps
About Morpheus...as a troubadour!
Written by MidnightSonneteer
Published
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