Toadie Town

Waves of dreams
Assault my mind
Time for sleep
I seldom find

So in the waking hours drift
These thoughts and dreams
That I must sift
Through all these things

To find My place
In here and now
In fields of dreams
That I must plow

And limber rats pack
Their bags so full
Of pieces of realityThat they can barely pull

My mind awash
With all these things
My head a-gush
With Lima beans

That taste like paste
Both mashed and not
And served with beer
That's piping hot

So we bury them deep
Beneath the ground
And pile on more
To build a mound

And a city sprouts
With marble roads
And buildings green
And filled with toads

They great me then
And smiles beam
They take me to places
Seldom seen

The under lake
The over hill
The dew drop bridge
The power mill

And high green towers
The sway in the wind
And many good toads
And one good friend

And the lilies are all laced
With silver and gold
And old men tell stories
As in days of old

And soon sets the sun
And warm sunlight ends
And the inn is the places
Where my good toadie spends

All of his evenings
Over beer at the bar
Listening to bards
Who've traveled quite far

And their song seem to say
That we're already asleep
Curled up in bed
Without counting sheep