The Land of Dreams


Round and rimmed with glee,
the moon’s face is no mystery tonight.
He’s just a happy old man
surrounded by his children,
those Van Gogh stars that adore him.

Such sparkle they make;
it’s a regular light show convention,
The sky is a domed ceiling
that shelters the like
of the contented and splendid.

Beneath the benevolence
of a sable night, a mother hums
the tune of a sleeping song
to her restless son.
Each note rises light as a feather

enlisting heaven
to sprinkle the boy with stardust.
His chubby fingers
twine through the mane of Pegasus
as off they fly to the land of dreams.

4 thoughts on “The Land of Dreams

  1. Ptc

    I am settled for afternoon rest, with one small book and Kindle Fire. Checking in at Peacefulpub, I noticed your dreams poem. It is such a good read for resting and thinking about good words just before I sleep. Thank you.

  2. Ptc,

    You are generous and appreciated!

    So glad to see you here. Your own writing is a great source of inspiration and pleasure. Your presence is a boon! Thank you!


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