Counting Sheep in Missing Socks

Dreams are magic carpet rides

Silk threads that weave the day to night

On tapestries behind closed eyes

Lie stories, knit in pearled starlight

Dreams taste bitter, sour, sweet

Delicacies the angels keep

Vision’s veil, torn, pages weep

Cobwebs only sleep can reach

Dreams are waves of ocean’s thoughts

Tide pools where the current’s caught

Tumbled dry on reef and rocks

Where sheep recount lost dryer’s socks