When I sleep...I dream.
It's a simple and effective remedy
To the spluttered cough of a congestion
In the bellowed lungs of fantasy,
And I take that cold stone spiral flight
With eager, barefoot schoolboy strides,
Up to the bell tower, and there, in cobweb corners
I'll cower until the chime of witching hour approaches
Drawing dreams in my scribble book tattered,
But treasured, Enid Blyton and moomintroll mind
