The Mid-Winter Night’s Dream

A train of clouds subdue,
The pillow is biting bread...
Drops of rain speak to each in feud,
The walls speak to itself in a silent thread... 

Sleeping bread in a wooden jar,
The moon looks afar...
A knitting cloud weeps a par,
A lonely breath is a crying star...

He waits for her,
The moon still waits a grim...
Eyes pained in spur,
A pale candle sings to the rim...

The crying star spells the rain,
Her eye paints his brain...
The moon wept in her terrain,
None is lost when all's to gain...

Sleeping despair in a painting,
A curtain writes a book in lazing...
Crying are grey roses in wedded plating,
The weeping sky in a purple slating...

The mist thus stitched the winter rim,
A photograph nails a porcelain dart...
Empty is the leaf on a tree that’s grim,
A snail therefore crawl its art...

Asleep are doves in craving,
A tulip finds her root,
Swollen cobwebs in Satan’s painting,
Blessed Mary crushed his pupils with a boot....