Incomplete Jigsaw

You wake up in the morning With a dream still in your head, And you’re nowhere near to sorting it all out. As the daylight comes at dawning Up you get and leave your bed, All’s confusion, giving you so much misdoubt. Trying to sift through what is left Within your dazed sub-conscious mind, Things aren’t fitting, it’s an incomplete jigsaw. Makes you feel somewhat bereft When nothing concrete seems defined, And quick flashes are too difficult to explore. Yet a feeling stays around you, Of some other, different sphere, One where all your inhibitions had taken flight. But when reality breaks through, And you’re back with your veneer, Then the dream is just a phantom of the night. © Ernestine Northover