Last night I dreamed of you among traceries of cobweb dew
Traipsing I followed through each room of darkened gloom.
I called out your secret name, just a ploy in dream game,
When a cast iron frying pan across my brow did me trepan.
Requisite birds around my head, laying little chicken eggs
Which fell, with deft aplomb, into the pan like little bombs
Exploding in yellow and white unbroken, what a sight!
As the shells which dropped, neatly over the edge flopped.
The brown sizzle sizzle grist deftly flipped with supple wrist
Drew me along the until her eyes burned through cobweb lies
Along the length of serpantine arm, give an inch, 8 feet long.
Still I knew not fear as I was pulled between her ears.
Then, when attention she gained, with me in and on her brain,
And on the ears of dust mites, I heard faintly to my right
A soft little tick, sounding just like 'scha-schlick',
Said something about trimming fat; would I like sausages with that?
Now I'm getting scared.
[This message has been edited by Alicat (12-16-2003 02:34 PM).]