Have you any dreams you’d like to sell?
In a dream I can find my élan,
I would pay dearly for a mystery,
One turbidly colored, with an onion plot.
I find comfort in their misdirection,
In the riddle of their many meanings,
Of misplaced lights and shapes,
With no hyponym to search for.
Do you have one for sale?
The ephemera of my night sleep,
Has left me for a more pliant mind,
I am near desperate; so, do you?
Ronald Whetsell's Creative Writing and Poetry Blog 