Betwixt Waking and Dreaming

Last night in the midst of those fuzzy, weird thoughts that come only as one toggles between being awake and asleep I wrote (in my mind) a brilliant blog. I should have removed myself from the bed immediately and typed the dang thing because I have spent ALL DAY TODAY trying to remember the words or the topic and I can not even recall the title. Bloody Hell. It is likely lost forever. Perhaps I imagined the entire thing. Perhaps mischevious Puck paid me a visit. It is not even midsummer. Alas!

"If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended,
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend:
if you pardon, we will mend:
And, as I am an honest Puck,
If we have unearned luck
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,
We will make amends ere long;
Else the Puck a liar call;
So, good night unto you all.
Give me your hands, if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends."

~William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Nights Dream


  1. Yes, it is true...even Bradstreet and Wheatley would agree...write the moment...the writer must write.

  2. but then again . . . easy come easy go. All you have to do is lie on the bed and drift away, with a pen and notebook within reach. You have done your bit for literature. Let the Muse take the next step.


"Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me? And why should I not speak to you?" ~Walt Whitman


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