- Books, Literature, and Writing
A Dream in Rhyme
I had a dream just the other night, and why, for the life of me,
Why I rode on a Brainy train there, mine to escape all sanity.
Aboard the car where I did sit, was a menagerie, of a kind,
The likenesses of those, to make the ride, nearly blew my mind.
There was Tesla, the inventive genius, with Einstein by his side,
They were discussing a Theory of Relativity, how it was applied.
Beethoven was writing music, Bach and Brahms were there, too,
Shakespeare was quoting sonnets, while Twain just had a chew.
Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, Greek figures of such a fine renown,
Were each taking a nap and loudly snored, as I did not make a sound.
Leonardo and Michelangelo were drawing portraits of everyone there,
Rodin was busy sculpting a bust, ignoring all without the least care.
As Longfellow and Elizabeth Browning quoted new poems, in their relief,
Edgar Allen was dreaming up more poetry of gloom, hopefully one so brief.
Henry Ford, Marconi, and Edison discussed advantages of the assembly line,
While I was so busy taking notes and to sketch, I almost then went blind.
The conductor turned out to be Karloff, that sent shivers down my spine,
Hitchcock and Hemingway were laughing aloud, Alfred was reading a line..
As birds were spied just outside, reflective moments returned in my despair,
"Not to worry",Alfred then quipped to me, "those are crows on a different tear."
As the whistle blew to signal our arrival, down the track, at the end of the line,
I realized how I was so lucky, in my dream, to share wonderful company, as mine..
After a moment of deep reflection, reasons for my dream, I began to understand,
The characters, who shared this ride with me, all met challenges, hand in hand.
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