Welcome to Billy’s Bloggerel, a web-log of doggerel…
Where do Ideas come from?
Part Three: Dreams
Our dreams are both blessing, and curse,
Where we are gods, or else converse.
Fair Titania, will not cease
Till we have found our mystic peace.
In dreams, she guides us, like the blind,
Our hopes, and happiness, to find.
In her charmed cloak, we hide from woe,
And waking, keep her pixie glow,
At least for moments, then tis gone,
Though, haze of fairy, may live on.
If then we rest and contemplate,
It’s then, we open, we create.
For th’ Queen of Sprites lingers near.
Listen! Charms whispered in your ear!
Your hidden thoughts are now revealed,
No longer is the dream concealed,
See! Your bright hearth of desire!
The secret of your living fire.
Not all such journeys are so blest,
Some fright and haunt, when we would rest.
In dreams there is no iron song
To repel fell Lord Oberon.
The Fairy King in sleep has sway.
To him, the mares of night, obey.
They drag us by our self-milled chains,
To places of perpetual rains,
Where hate and fear have made a feast,
To satiate our hidden beast.
This Grendel quaffs a mead of terrors
Reminding us of all our errors,
Loves all of which we’re most afraid,
And shows each fall in a parade.
At last, the gloating King sets free
Our low souls to reality.
But here too in our wretched sweat
We owe cruel Oberon a debt.
The poison from his puckish potions,
Ferment strong and primal notions.
Even from his tricksy lyre,
Come the burdens that inspire.
Awake, we are like lucky steel,
That mute the fairies’ lulling reel.
Yet even here they wait like fades,
For daydreams where they prowl as shades,
They tease and taunt, like fools, like Lears,
And revel when we breed ideas.