The Sunday Poem: Lullabye: Waking Dream

This is a villanelle. You’re supposed to be able to read it as either life being the dream, or dreaming while asleep.

Lullabye: Waking Dream

Sing yourself to sleep, my sweet, and settle down the moon.
The countries found beyond the night are rich with tourist sites:
Plot your dreaming carefully, and do not wake too soon.

As sirens call you now and bye, a subtle lull, a croon,
Take big strides through vasty lands purpled with delight.
Sing yourself to sleep, my sweet, and settle down the moon.

Do not fear oblivion’s near, that sleep is like a tomb;
You stand on precipices made of cotton candy light!
Plot your dreaming carefully, and do not wake too soon.

There will be sweet wine, warm food, and melodies of June,
The arias of April and the meters of the night.
Sing yourself to sleep, my sweet, and settle down the moon.

To dream is not a punishment. To live is not a doom.
The two entwine within your eyes, the eyes you kept so bright.
Plot your dreaming carefully, and do not wake too soon.

And now you’re older, old, and old for dreaming’s final rites,
Know the paths you trod remain, in darkness as in life;
Sing yourself to sleep, my sweet, and settle down the moon.
Plot your dreaming carefully, and do not wake too soon.