Sleep Song Poem by jane heart

Aches and bitters, tongues of dream
react in frothing rancid streams
If a bubble spluts and pops...the time
of irritation stops.
the bubble is a scented wish
Colorful as clear reef fish
Giving off a drug called sleep
Where angels peep and demons weep
And palaces of blue and gold
Speak silently of old.
Rest.
While beside a fluffed, cavorting mess of
silly scent
Smiling faces weave content.
Clutch
at delft,
Adore citrine
These pearls of elegance,
of art and swirls
Watch
those inner scenes where cars have eyes
And eyes have lobsters
wringing red
When dead.
The taste is sweet.
The night is dark.
The game is on
The storm is done.