By Andrew R. Duckworth
Silly sayings stain the air,
Nonsense uttered without care,
And, sure enough, I’m in a dream,
Floating in the sleep stream.
Those words I hear that don’t seem clear
And seem to have no purpose here
May serve some purpose in a way
As my mind waits until break of day,
Drawing on the memories near.
But what should such utter nonsense mean,
Filling a mind that should be pristine?
Conversation held in a dream
Is not at all what it may seem.
It can lead to newfound gold
When listening to the stories told,
If one knows how to listen.