in the dream I saw a lake –
quite small and round.

It was surrounded by fir trees –
Christmas-like trees.

And each tree had garlands
hanging from their branches
and the garlands were made of
iambic pentameters.

I was told not to question
the beauty that confronted me

So I stood staring at the scene
and asked no one anything like:
“How can this be?”

But I can tell you that in my sleep
I saw what I saw
and when I awakened I wondered.

This entry was posted in Poems. Bookmark the permalink.