This could be somebody's dream I've been in

Daffodils in December.

The fog melted away as the sun began  to warm my day
it was Wednesday,

Still full of the dream and keen to dream on
I stayed where I was and the day moved on.

But because a but is but a part of it
I awoke on the train,

Explaining planes.

Surrounded and the oxygen's tainted
pressed from all sides
can't run
can't hide

the young girl with eyes like saucers offers me a seat and of course I decline

a gentleman always defers.

I'm nodding off again to dream on again,
not a good plan.

keeping my wits about me while an imaginary friend shouts to me
losing the plot which in my case is not really a lot to lose.

And now the rain falls over the 'rainbow bridge'


How delightful to see you, said someone
charmed, I'm sure, said I.

( that may have been in your dream )

It's not real.

the dream carries on without the cast
the last of the last lingers, licks his fingers and flicks the page.

Green Park.

on the central line I think it could be pink and no one would be any the wiser.