To dream

               To dream
My thoughts are unsure of their welcome.
They tarry around in my brain
With no opinion when needed,

Walking on my cerebrum.
Resting on my optical section.
Moreover, drinking on my temporal lobe.

Conciseness confuses them.
Distracts them and steals their vanity.

Therefore, they sneak into my sleep,
And wow me with their skill.

They are masters at hallucinations
And gurus of illusions.

I treasure these moments with my dreams.

Author's Note

can you spare a small comment for a poor old poet, my dear?