Dreams are fragmented memories <br />Twisted and tossed, <br />A mingling of scenes blasted <br />By Insanity's chaos, <br />Strange inventions heaved forth <br />By brilliance untamed, <br />Explosions of art splashed <br />In a fidgeting brain. <br /> <br />Dreams are forms of beauty <br />Emblazoned with brightest virtue, <br />Or medleys of dark foes <br />Impassioned to hurt you. <br />They are puzzles of the mind <br />In which the portions do not fit, <br />And riddles so fiercely troublesome, <br />They stifle the wise man's wit. <br /> <br />Dreams are hatchlings of imagination <br />That wing about with flare, <br />Streaming amidst the baubles <br />That drift in Fancy's air... <br />And in deepest depths of our subconscious, <br />They migrate to the soul, <br />Soaring through all the senses <br />Until the senses overflow. <br /> <br />But then the eyes are waking, <br />And dreams fade to nevermore, <br />Like embers from a fire blown, <br />Falling to Oblivion's floor.<br /><br />Jonathan Platt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreams-678/
