upon waking, i scribble furiously

after particularly vivid dreams i often wake and am unable to fall
back to sleep. my mind just keeps turning them over. i have made it a
habit for a few years to write them down as quickly as possible. i
offer up last nights most vivid coalescence.

thistle caught a twined, melodic Toe, but even the smithy's anvil's
weight could not bear the circumstance. happening a lark wherein the
meager chances roost, Calamity joined a quaint but able Minstrel. Toe,
unlike the music played, tapped a rhythm forgotten by Fingers.

when lively a poor, undeserving, smiling child met with dark treasure,
Toe's mind lit a sound, seething thought. sharing with the Minstrel
this unkempt notion, Minstrel sang of the bluest dawn. nothing barring
this crafty charm, the two collected the child, dark, lit by the shy
magenta cast of the sky.

sometimes, i think i should not write after a rendezvous with rum.

ghost