Poetry Archives

Its properties are to induce a sleep
Fraught with adventure, and the flight of time
Is inconceivable in swiftness.  Deep
Sunken in slumber, imageries sublime
Flatter the senses, or some fearful dream
Holds them enmeshed.  Years pass which on the clock
Are but so many seconds.  We agreed
That the next man who came should prove the scheme;
And you were he.  Jan handed you the crock.
Two whiffs!  And then the pipe was broke, and you were freed.”