I just kind of made this one up on the spot because I liked the sound of it. This is another poem in iambic pentameter, just for fun.


When lovely feelings do seem here to stay

and there is nothing I have left to say

Come then the dreams of lovely like a ray

and through despairing clouds they come my way

although they come not on a silver tray

but battered by the thoughts not kept at bay

The lovely of a world long not okay

Now reaching me in sleep right where I lay

They come regardless any disarray

While all the world still sleeps from night to day