Shakespearean Variation: Sonnet 27
Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,
eyes drifting downward, limbs heavy and tired,
on satin pillow to lay down my head
with final glimpses of daylight expired.
Now settling in dreams I rest and abide,
perhaps making conversation with thee
while walking the dreamlands spacious and wide.
What sights in that land shall our journey see!
There colors more fair than any of sight
cast out their rays in peripheral view
and shadows are found more jet-black than night,
and every half-step uncovers the new.
-- Our ways go together in dreaming mind;
alas, much less so in waking, we find.
