"I dream of Genie, she's a light brown hare".
Well, I don't actually dream of genies. Or hares. In fact, it's only in the last couple of years that I've consciously recollected any of my dreams other than ones that were disturbing enough for me to wake myself up from them (I think that's a facet of 'lucid dreaming' - something some people pay good money to learn how to do, and I can do it for free. Go me!) Anyway ...
Last night, after consciously stopping a weird dream about strange people outside my house, which wasn't my house but was - if you see what I mean - and my mother weilding a large piece of garden trellis in defensive preparation, I dreamt several lines of utterly compelling poetry then woke up. And promptly forgot it.
The way my mind runs things, you'd think I'd know something about it ...
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