Sleep-walking

Having landed here from a far-off isle
And feeling upbeat in my pyjamas,
I follow sleep-walking signs and enquire
About the garden of Hesperides.

A dragon appears, and I stand rigid
In its shadow. I’m present in body,
But wholly absent in spirit and sense.
The brute is huge and I’m beyond weeping.

The golden apple tree bids me onward,
So I send flames from my sleeve and wave my
Arm as though I’m using a wand; I can
Surely banish this hideous monster.

Three women dance around the apple tree,
Causing dusk’s golden light to fill the sky.
I blow breath into their dancing and my
Pulse causes their memory to vanish.

With gusts of air, I decrease the light and
Increase the passing of hours. Then, spraying
Lyrics into the air with a fine sleepy dust,
I sing a lullaby that prompts their sleep.

Like an angel, fearing to tread, I make
My feet walk to the far distance, past the
Lullaby, and find a path through a gale,
Keeping an even keel with my head down.

When I spy the apple tree, the calm night
Welcomes me to its realm. I’m now truly
Ready to be amazed by the golden
Fruit or anything suspended in air.

In the moonlight, I head for the apples,
Never putting a foot wrong; I’m walking
On a moonbeam, being a star, reaching
Up to the golden globes in the branches.

Weighing gravity’s authority, I’m
Poised, ready to pluck my prize, so I grab
A branch, get pricked by thorns and hear my wife
Complain that I’m ruining her roses.