Ah, good night
What is a good night
To sleep soundly without dreams?
To sleep dreaming with sounds?
Too much sound and all other wake up,
Making you wish that you were dreaming.
Aye, that's probably not for the best.
"But I don't snore when I sleep"
You swear honestly that you weren't
performing a one-night-only
aria, somnulently, of course,
rising in pitch, not pitch-perfect
nevertheless, reaching that crescendo
the waking call, that aubade that no-one
really wants.
Your critics, if you even did sing at night
- that is -
chide and would against all wishes
not want the encore, but they will be getting it.
Thus night in and night out
The grand opera is staged.
Aye, that's probably NOT a good night.
If a composer, though, stood in that room
Listening intently to your Stentorian voice
That undiscovered soprano of the bedroom
Envisioning you in the next big show
Il grande russatore
Sleep-walkers,
Sleep-talkers,
Sleep-eaters,
Tread aside!
The sleep-singer, sleep-opera-singer is here!
That would be a night to remember
That would be a night to record
Have a choir of snorers
A chorus of snorers
Accompanying the grand finale
That would be a good night, ideally
But you be having a good night?
Perhaps not.
I can dream about it.
Dreaming, sleeping, about it?
Aye, that's another question.
YOU ARE READING
Songs of the Reed
PoetryA repository of various poems that I have written over the years gathered into this publication. Influences range from Whitman, Ginsberg to Shakespeare and Milton and confluence into what is hopefully a larger collection. It'll be updated daily with...
