The Vanity of Dreams

Evening stars, eager to appear 

and cirrus clouds so thin like harp's strings, 

plays me a lullaby that brings me nearer 

to the vanity of dreams.

 

Just a thick sleep, with heavy lids not lifting 

and a bed so soft and comforting, 

with lazy limbs unmoving 

relieved to be asleep. 

 

Oh,

 

Mauve skies with mottled stars 

and a marvelous moon with its lunar lavish; 

drink it all in like a nocturnal lush 

and sleep away all the exhaustion.