Beds

Katie, asleep on her dream cloud...

Sonnet (written about 5 years ago): Beds

No mind can climb into another sleep
than that which lurking creatures terrify
to sing and lull me, while inside would creep
and pull apart the tear ducts from my eye.
The headboard of my glowing bed is warm
so I indulgently dream on and on,
who would not waken from an irate storm
until the covers of the night have gone.
But painful is the rising sunlight's gleam
upon my softened eye, stirred by daybreak,
and stolen is my melancholic dream,
my subdued state, and how my heart does ache.
Yet the sun sets, always; the memory
of day is gone, restoring reverie.

Beds, after a creative writing exercise where we fucked our sonnets up...

The headboard on my bed glowing
as I indulgently dream.
Personal life thrilled and rattled like live films.
No mind can close the unfortunate wardrobe
from experience and play
found climbing into another sleeping room.
Hours drift often from another world,
myself holds in person one glorious love
pulling me anywhere.
I refrain.
I pull covers over the wiser world
in some soft sleep.