Dream Dreamer

Cascading stars

Not falling stars

Nor momentary shooting stars

Night fireflies

Not fly-by-nights

Nor echoes in the dead of night

Not half-attempts at anything

Nor abstract things

Just real things

Artist Credit: Tiger R.; at various ages

Cover Me

Oh to be
The skin exposed 
Near cashmere coverings

Its defiant dare
Can draw the stare
And tempt the mind of things

But that which waits
Beneath the warmth
And silently bids “come”

Is the skin 
I wish to wear;
For whose dream-er I drum

“I Pretend”

I know a special boy.
He wants to be a bat,
so he can fly from where he is
and go to Where It’s At.

I can’t fathom such a journey.
From the safety of his desk,
and why he thinks that wings and teeth and fur
would serve him best.
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