Sweet dreams -are made of broken pieces-

Oh to walk within a dream
Oh my very own dream to peep
A grassy green meadow
Full of light -so bright-
Out past the fields of the counting sheep
Where memories wake, whilst I – I sleep.

And Oh! How Joyous and Merry!
What a decorative dream -I dreamt so deep-
I wish I could grasp, no, capture this dream
In a locket, in my pocket
-No.. tight round my neck I would keep-

And the feeling of music,
Oh! Dancing music!
Me off my feet, the music did sweep.
Back over the grassy green hills and meadows.
Over those heaps,
I fell so steep

-The dancing music slowly turns to a weep-

And out of the depths, the ducts!, I leap.
Encased in a droplet, from the corners I creep.
From my eyes to my pillow, the memories seep

waking up in tears

-As if I’d been crying in my sleep-

-Nessie Roswell