Chair Of Dreams

There’s a chair he sits

To meditate

And speculate on life.

It’s a comfy one;

Soft, well-sprung,

Eases all day’s strife.


He rests his head

On cushioned pad

And closes sleepy eyes,

Lets cares of day

Melt swift away,

Thoughts turn to inner sighs.


A restful time,

No work in mind,

Merely moments rest,

A winsome wait, to

Imaginative state, where

Dreams replace life’s best.


Time passing for some seconds

Seems a lifetime

In this way.

Clock ticks the moments

Idly by,

Dreams consummate; life delay.


Close mind to voices,

External noises,

Let angel flutter near

With wings of portent,

Soul be sent,

Eliminate all fear.


There’s a chair he sits,

It looks quite plain, but

Surrealism enhances,

In quietest throes

Of deep repose,

New hope from all dreamt chances.


There’s a chair he sits,

And with eyes closed, so

Angel unobserved,

Blesses hopes and dreams

For him

With gestures but no word.


20 thoughts on “Chair Of Dreams”

      1. You’ll look good in either 🙂
        It’s just dawned on me…I’m trying to imagine an angel letting fly with a very strong Scottish accent? Or for that matter…Russian…Japanese or even one with an Aussie slang (heaven forbid) 🙂


      2. You’re just reminding me that I was in a nursery class on Monday. Not my usual but a ‘please take’. I was dressing up with the weans and had my fairy wings on then. It was fun! Scottish accent not withstanding. 🙂 x


  1. I love not moving from my chair to experience the world – or rather, not leaving my bed! LOL I am so attached to my bed. My dearest poet/word sorceress – what is the best way to email you? Would like to run an idea by you? Thanks 🙂


    1. You sound exactly like me. Some have their chairs. My favourite place in my whole house is my bed. Not in it. Just on it. Thinking and surrounded by all my bits and pieces. Don’t even know why I have an office….I’m never in it. 🙂 x
      My email is I’m intrigued now. 🙂 x


      1. Good stuff. I’ll probably not get it until after school. My phone’s pretty garbage and some of the schools don’t seem to ‘allow’ signals. Catch up later, Shirley. Love. x


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