A solid, yet comforting pressure covers exhausted ears,
Like a knight’s armor.
Protecting me from opposing armies of noise.
I close sleepless eyes, allowing myself to float in the ambiance,
As my eyes open, a calm forest appears.
Moist, earthy ground lays beneath dry feet
The smell of orange, red, and yellow, crisp, dry, leaves flows through the air
With the sharp, green, needles and sap.

Sometimes, I wake in a cobblestone castle.
Meeting with proud knights of Arthur's round table,
Planning a ceremony “For The King”.
When it's time to depart, I'm escorted out of iron gates with reluctance.,
Leaving behind a promise of return.

I stumble around a wet, wooden deck,
Keeping an out for “A Stowaway”.
Chatting with the brave captain in his quarters,
Planning the next adventurous course.
Singing sea shanties until I'm whisked away again.