Sleep

Sleep poem by Iris Carden

I’m lying in bed
with a cat on my head
and the dog by my side
has gotten quite wide.

I’m trying to sleep
but the company I keep
feels more secure
when closer than near.

I could give them a shove,
but I accept their love
and submit to my fate,
I’ll get to sleep late.

Eventually I doze,
And what do you know?
It’s hyper coloured dreams,
on a weird range of themes.

The cat’s growing a garden
of mutated flowers
while the dog talks philosophy
for hours and hours.

I think as I  dream
therefore I’m confused
as the monsters arrive
of course, mermaids too.

For a moment I wake:
the cat yowled for yowl’s sake.
The dog moved around,
took the blankets, that hound.

I drift off again, 
I guess that was when
the dreams all turned bad
and nightmares were had.

The monsters were back
and there were more.
I didn’t count,
but at least a score.

Out of the garden
the cat’s weird flowers
had begun to develop
strange magical powers.

The monsters and flowers
were chasing me down.
Somehow they thought 
I’d stole the Queen’s crown.

But the Queen was dead
I’d read on the news.
I sought help from the dog
She just quoted Rousseau.

The cat didn’t care
what her garden had done.
I had no help
I just had to run.

The flowers were gaining.
The monsters were, too.
I’d run out of strength,
I thought I was through.

Then I heard a  musical  shriek. 
As the alarm woke me from sleep.
The day was all  new
and the pets wanted food.

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