Quietly sighs the dawn
long and languid through the hours
All to come about lies in wait
Per chance, to say
Something sagacious,
Something great.

Dreamers wide awake;
So erudite and perspicuous.
As if their dreaming
were to dream
away the smothering Incubus

That sponges up the will to act
by a forlorn soul expecting
that fortune’s grin will have it's heart
as effortlessly as it's wanting.

Stock-still and stunned of mobility
Tipped teaspoons heaped with emptiness
Into steaming cups of void
Sipped by thirsty lips of young
on blarney stone, a kiss and tongue,
to speak their yearning with sang-froid.