The Dream Ends And Re-starts. Comical Poem 881 By Angela Lansbury

Singapore flag

When others sleep I wake alone

Half dreaming of my Singapore home

Surrounded by a happy crowd

Oriental music, car horns loud

Then Little India, breathing Indian spice

Where Chinese men eat chicken rice

Our motorbike stops, I fall on grass

A crowd of children stops aghast

Now Covid's struck, I'm stuck alone

In my Singapore high floor home

How real that cluttered dream desk seems

When I'm still trapped in past daydreams

UK Flag

Now I'm awake and England's real

Daydream I'm young, still in the past

A strange face smiles from mirror glass

Night light, decide the way I feel

Don't read the news, my old friends say

Enjoy your day, war's far away

Be happy, eat chocolate, be free

How many would swap to be me!

Now I'm awake, new roads to take

Others complain, campaign and rage

I think they make a big mistake

I'll create joy on my blank page

All dreams are free, nothing so cheap

As the cinema I watch in sleep

Words churn - paint more scenes in my head?

Enough, instead go back to bed!

-ends-

It seems a simple poem, dream, wake, daydream, go back to sleep. But it is multi layered. Observation. Philosophy. Psychology. Life coaching. 

Beating depression. Short of sleep makes you depressed. 

It starts as a reflection of how real dreams seem, observation about dreaming alone, dreams of being in crowds. 

Waking alone, although you are not alone. How news can be depressing, but it is far away, live in the moment.

Choosing to be happy, sleeping for health.

Written between 7 am and 7.30 am.

Once the poem is read and written, the writer can leave the imaginary world of the poems, and daydreams, and go back to the imaginary world of dreams.

The reader, too, can return to the real world - or take the advice and go back to sleep.

Please share links to your favourite poems, and favourite comments on poems and poetry and life.

I also have blogs on travel, and dress for home and travel, which I write every day.  Other blogs are intermittent, on speech writing, and being a landlord and/or tenant.

You can also read bits of my books, on Amazon. More books by Angela Lansbury on Lulu. My previous posts show my books. See Poem Storage comical poem 878.

Mother's Smiling Face. Comical poem 816 by Angela Lansbury.

Netta Lansbury. Mother of Angela Lansbury. Photo from Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

 Everywhere I go, mother follows me

She smiles perpetually, encouraging me

Her face in photos on the wall

I won't forget that smile at all

I know I'm just daydreaming

I understand how to others it seems

The dead are still alive

And speak to you in dreams

I don't mope, nor cling to vain hope

But choose only happy memory

We lived a long life of laughter

Together, that's how we wanted it to be

So everywhere I see her face

Although she's in some other place

Her smile and laughter's still with me

As I preserve her memory.

-ends-

Could God Make A Mistake? comical poem 721 by Angela Lansbury

 All things are bright and beautiful 

That hymn was written long ago

What if I wrote it nowadays 

With all the science we now know?

Even if you are religious, 

If you search, I'm sure you will find

Devout and decent people pray 

To make God change his, or her, mind

Take cities of millions of men,

Study their acts, a million years

If you give all of them free will 

Most give love and laughter, but some spread tears

Just like modern electric cars

Have accelerators and brakes

Gardens have cats, rats, dogs, frogs, foxes, snakes, 

Could one of them be a mistake?

Cat waiting, asking for milk and mice. Hillview Road. Photo by Angela Lansbury. Copyright.

We all see all from our point of view

The sun, the stars and universe

The summer, winter, breezes, and storms

The births, loves, weddings, deaths and hearse

Your voice has choice, prose, poetry, 

We all choose for better and worse

Sing hymns of praise, or say swear words, 

Pay compliments, pay bills and curse

Last night I dreamt, as dreamers do, 

Not nightmares, daydreams, just like you

I met a dream friend of a friend, 

I turned up late, but, at the end

I saw her flat up in the sky, 

She lived so high, I wondered why

Far above green trees, below deep blue seas, 

Through white nets, new, a terrace, a dizzy view

I woke and thought, is life like dreams, 

Just random events? Or real schemes?

I must not sit and pray all day, 

But read life's cook books.  First work. Then play

Although the world's full of mad mistakes, 

When a fine vase breaks, in the end, scheme

You can make fate bend, take gold to mend, 

And make each day fulfil one dream.

-ends-

Kin-tsugi repair is a Japanese system of painting gold over the random cracks when you glue together a broken vase or bowl or plate. The Japanese mix the gold with the glue. I glued first, then painted the gold on top with a gold marker pen. Kin means gold. Tsugi is mend or journey. 

I won a speech contest about the environment, using a broken porcelain lamp base, shaped like a vase, which after it broke I had mended with gold, Japanese style, making it look better than when it had been just plain dark green.

About Angela Lansbury's books

I have twenty books and ebooks on amazon.com and lulu.com, some humorous poetry, such as Poetry Pets and Pests, humorous prose, such as my latest book Embarrassing Moments. Take a look. Buy one for yourself or a friend. 

Meeting Angela To Get A Signed Book

If you live near me in Harrow, London, England, or meet me at a Toastmasters International speakers' club meeting or speech contest, I can sign a book for you and write a rhyming couplet about you or your name.

About Angela Lansbury's Blogs

Please follow my blogs, bookmark posts, and share links to your favourite poems.

Beautiful But Bothersome Birds comical poem 357 by Angela Lansbury

As I walked down the pretty, potholed street

I heard a bird's pretty, irritating tweet

Like an orchestra's tuning up squeak

A nearby man burped meet and greet 

A nightingale's famed for its song

It sings so-so, don't get me wrong

But when a bird repeats the same old song

Dawn to dusk, every minute, that's too long

Short-sighted, I enjoy the view

Don't see the litter on the mountain

Hear the pleasant tinkling fountain

Don't see dead fish pond, nor dead leaf fountain.

A city girl, I save in summer sales

Rejoicing I paid five cents less

Whilst others die on deadly mountain trails

Called city search folk in costly distress

I stared in wonder as a child

Now I'm a cynic about the wild

Yet love to travel the world's great scenes

In daydreams based on laptop screens. 

I hope you will forgive me please

I dream of falling coounuts, leaves, and trees

And, alas, even more absurd

A morning without a chorus of birds.

-ends-

Copyright Angela Lansbury. 

Please share links to your favourite posts and poems.

I can compose a draft of a poem in my head whilst walking or swimming first thing in the day, before starting the day's tasks. I can write a draft of the poem on my phone whilst waiting for breakfast with family.