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Sweet Dream

An ode to morning wood
Dawn finds my window on the prairie
Open to a new day, though I'm wary.
Why rise so early? The clock has yet to rule;
Still an hour before I'm off to school.

And so I return to the twilight realm,
Not fully conscious, but far from rem.
My Sweet Dream rides in on a prairie breeze;
Languid lover, inexplicable tease.

She invades a place uniquely mine
Where reality and fantasy intertwine.
Without any form or substance or voice,
She rapes me gently, I have no choice.

Riding my passion, she's so exquisite;
Galloping faster, I'm unable to inhibit
The prize she seeks filling her womb.
With a licentious giggle she leaves the room.

Suddenly the alarm buzzes so rudely,
And reality forces its way so crudely
Into my precious, intimate space;
I must arise and join the rat race.

Arise I must,
Until the morrow, I trust;
When I'll begin another day with my Sweet Dream;
And dare I mention, a handful of cream.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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