The Dreaming Chest (from the Surreal Sonnets Series)

Gently in sleep we search the seas of dreams,
Traipsing upon submerged mountain peaks,
Our fastest steps slow-motion so it seems.
Does reason know our heart – of what it seeks?

So sweet’s the air we breathe in, not a brine,
But scent of sweetest flowers in our breast.
We see down in a valley a bright shine
And fly to it. We find a golden chest

With rubies, emeralds, jewels and coins of gold,
Its treasures overflowing from its lip.
We scoop out every thing that it does hold,
Into its empty walls ourselves we slip,

And close the lid, bring darkness to our face,
For we have found our ideal dreaming place.

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