In the dream under pretense I'm reading
the Regency Romance Writers meeting
it's not clear why I'm there, at last declare
I am a poet. The quicksilver change--
glances askance--peopled scenes rearrange
the fleshment as a baby girl is placed
into my arms--what joy! she meets my gaze--
her parents quite astounded watch her grow
under my loving presence--and I know
this lucid dream's a gift. It is as if
a ray of sun thrusts past the valley's cliffs
where I've been dwelling in the hopeless dark
and lights within my heart a new life's spark
Inspired by: Fleshment, Quicksilver, Valley, Pretense and a night of vivid dreaming.
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