From the recording Awake
Rick May - Bass
Daniel Lapp - Cornet
Doug Cox - Piano
Moonbows lighting up the sprites,
Fog is oh so thick so bright,
Dogs are barking, crickets harping: tintinnabula of night.
Wind is playing on his reeds,
rain starts tickling her keys:
moebius hours, Sandman’s flowers, midnight’s tease.
Trapped in forests of the night,
kindling dreams, swilling mires burn bright.
Nerves will jump on night-stained sheets.
Generous poppies found in Keats
on my pillow breeding woes in the middle of these weeds.
Dreams like clouds will crest and cry;
thunderous tear us from our ties;
night mare’s tails are shredding sails; dreams don’t lie.
A little pill might quell these thoughts,
kill the dead, calm this constant haunt.
Searing hum, sleep won’t come, words and words and words like drums.
Misting sleep will morph and die;
fitful, toss us from our skies;
night mares rearing, daybreak nearing, one more try.
Will-o’-wisps bring anxious dawns,
rambling on and on and on, forgetfulness foregone.