chordatesrock: (Default)
Have a terrible sonnet.

In dreams, the starving eat their fill of meat;
Dream water tries to slake a dreamer's thirst.
Though they in waking life be cruelly cursed,
In dreams they find they have enough to eat
And friends that every day will come to greet
And ask how well they fare and what they need.
In dreams they find that all their wounds are nursed
By kindly, tender folk who are well-versed
In healing arts, and touches sugar-sweet.

They wake and want to be with dreamborn friends,
But find that all they dreamed has disappeared.
Though some of what they dream may well be real,
The changes made must meet with sudden ends,
Their craft undone, as daylight must reveal.
But in your dreams, you'll find the Lord oft sends
Ideas to make by day of solid steel.
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