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. ; )