It was all a dream—the weight of the world.
Jump awake for returned breaths.
Like kiloware becoming value, waking turns mares to airs.
It was all a dream—the fortunate find.
Priceless art mobilier in hand becomes budget tchotchke of nightstand.
It was all a dream—needs out of reach.
Mardy mood is met with ease as missed loves leave naught to please.
Then, pillow brushes comfort, reminding morning’s break.
It was all a dream—vivid hours of warmthful scenes.
While reality’s obverse is both ephemeral and dark, soul searches for oneiric places that merit a permanent park. ; )