"And the Goat-man whistles far, and whee" – E.E. Cummings
"In a Dreaming Sleep"
Once again I fall asleep
to the sound of falling rain…
and I find that though I lie awake,
my dreams begin to reign.
A goat-man comes to kiss my hand
and leads me in the room,
taking my wet rain-coat,
he hands it to the broom.
The band composed of leprechauns
strike up and play a waltz-
I find I'm dancing with the goat-man
with few and far-left faults.
My dress and hair drip on the floor
from the storm outside
but no one seems to notice
and dance on with their pride.
Suddenly the goat-man's gone
and I'm standing with the queen.
her smile is warm, her embrace is soft-
and no remorse is seen.
She leads me to a chamber
and unlocks the door within.
show's me there's a wardrobe,
gives me a towel to dry my skin.
She searches through the many gowns
and shows me the perfect one-
soft and flowing white,
fits perfectly when I try it on.
She leads me back into the ballroom
when I am fully ready,
and when I walk in to the room,
people grasp things to keep them steady.
they hide their faces behind sweet masks
and speak sweet words from behind them,
removing them only when they kiss my hand
or wish to speak to me themselves.
Again the band strikes up a song-
one fast, upbeat, and fun.
they twirl and smile around me,
and I'm the centre- the chosen one.
Men stop to kiss my hand,
ladies embrace me and kiss my forehead.
But why me? I've done nothing special.
I was only by a warm light to this palace lead.
Suddenly I'm being spun about
and dancing with every gentleman.
I smile, I laugh. I cannot explain why.
But enjoy myself? That I can.
We dance for what feels like hours,
though I know it's been a brief time-
but a new group of people are entering,
and everyone's smiles still shine.
Again I'm fawned over and over
By the people of this court,
they smile and call me 'Lady'
like I'm of that special sort.
The next song is again fast and fun
And again I'm twirled about.
the floor begins to clear,
but I am not let out.
The goat-man and Queen begin to dance-
A folk dance of the time.
They take my hands and spin me too-
the people form a line.
They take turns dancing and spinning with us
laughing and smiling as wide as they can.
Each one grasping my hand tight,
like they're each my favorite fan.
But someone's hand I haven't yet felt
meets mine half way through the dance.
I find it's gloved in soft black leather,
and I falter in my shining stance.
His mask is black and hides his face
except for shining lips and eyes.
His hair is pulled back from his face
and no one sees through his disguise.
He takes me in his gloved hands
And turns me with the music's time
making my heart flutter still
to know that he has chosen mine…
We dance and dance through every song
despite whispers and jealous glances.
and it seems this man has hold of my mind
and ruins everyone else's chances.
And I find the more we dance away
the more I'm his to keep…
to hold me till my dying day
and protect me in my sleep.
And as the night comes to an end
he bends to steal a kiss-
but in return I ask his name…
but he cannot return that wish.
He disappears right through my arms
as though he wasn't there
and so the room and court and Queen
have vanished in thin air.
And my clothes are as they were
still wet from the rain,
and I stand there in the forest
my heart in anguished pain.
The goat man comes
and takes my hand,
and with a kiss
is out with the band.
and I'm standing in the rain again
watching the leaves flutter in the wind.
and I wake up from my dreaming sleep
and know it was a dream again.
CLeeB June 7, 2006
In a Dreaming Sleep
Part One
Panic, I think, is the last emotion to overcome you in an intense situation. At least, it felt like I went through at least an hour's worth of different emotions before my brain finally settled on panic, giving me the definite answer;
Yes, I was alone.
It was a strange place to find myself lost – surrounded by trees and dirt and a bunch of plants I didn't even recognize. It wasn't warm, but it wasn't cold - the sky mulled a darkish grey above me, threatening rain. I simply stood there, on the edge of the road, staring at the spot where the bus should have been – where it had been, maybe thirty seconds before. I was alone. I had my jacket, half a bag of pretzels, a box of orange tic-tacs and a lighter. Surely I could survive on that – they'd realize I was gone and come back soon, wouldn't they? I wouldn't have to be out here for more than twenty minutes; thirty, at the most. I tried to calm the torrents turning in my stomach as I tried to force myself to believe that, and I sat on a dry patch of dirt on the side of the road. I'd just stay right there, until they came back. But I couldn't even hear the roar of the bus' motor tumbling over the swerving road anymore. I couldn't hear the motor of any vehicle, for that matter.
That's when the panic set in.
"Go away," I grumbled, attempting to pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my closed eyes, where a very bright flash - suspiciously resembling that of a camera - had just appeared.
"Isn't she precious?" Breydin cooed, passing the camera around so everyone could get a good look at my sleeping form. Their condescending reactions were somewhat dulled by the roar of the bus' tires directly beneath my head, and the whooshing of the air past the window. "Wake up," she said, punching my arm. "It's my turn to sleep."
"Alright," I groaned, sitting up and surrendering the pillow. She grabbed it without so much as a thank you. She was lucky that she was my best friend. "Where are those pretzels?" I asked, suddenly finding myself hungry.
"Under my seat," she replied, her eyes already clamped shut against the daylight. I reached under and grabbed the bag, and sat up just as she finished adjusting her feet on my lap. I was glad that she was stuck on this trip with me – at least if I had to travel 700 miles away from home, my best friend was there too.
My mother had roped us both into the trip several months before – without our knowledge. Seeing a flier for it at the grocery store, she'd promptly called Breydin's mom, convincing her that the two of us should go to this leadership conference on the other side of the state. Breydin's mom had enthusiastically agreed, and Mom laid down the money for it that day, surprising Breydin and myself when we showed up at my house after school.
"Mom," I had tried to reason – uselessly – "it's my senior year – I don't really want to spend my spring break in a leadership conference half way across the country."
"It's not that far away," she'd replied, unable to process the sarcasm of that statement. "Besides, it will look wonderful on your transcript." She smiled to herself at that thought, pleased with my already overwhelming list of extra-curricular activities that she herself had organized.
"Colleges don't give a flying crap about those things, Mom," I explained for probably the eight hundredth time.
"Well, I've already paid for it," she said, effectively ending the conversation, for the time being. "At least you'll have Breydin there," she offered.
"Yes, if I'm going to have to be miserable I might as well drag my best friend there with me," I said. She took that as defeat – I suppose it kind of was.
"Bathroom break," our bus driver called, pulling to the edge of the road.
"Where's the rest stop?" some smart-alek kid asked from the front.
"It's that tree right there," he answered, pointing out the door.
No one on the bus seemed too keen on peeing on the scenery, but most of us figured this would be our only stop for a while, so we decided it was a risk worth taking. I picked Breydin's feet up as I stood to leave, and her eyes popped open.
"We there?" she mumbled, still half asleep.
"No, bathroom break," I said. She dropped her head and fell right back asleep. We filed down the stairs in a stiff single file line, everyone's joints achy from sitting for four hours straight. We picked out individual corners of the forest, not really wanting to be watched by anyone else. I wandered for a while before I found a good spot, far from everyone else. I pulled down my pants and squatted, just like so many camping trips had taught me. I figured it was a good spot – I couldn't even hear the other kids. I pulled my pants back on and was picking my way back to where we parked when I was met by a sudden feeling of unease. Something wasn't right. I still couldn't hear anyone.
After a few feet my problem became clear – I was on the road, but there was no bus to be seen. I was certain that was where we had parked, but there was nothing there now. The bus was gone. They'd left me.
I was alone.