The Things Dreams Are Made Of

Could you take a brush
Dip it in some paint
And spread across a canvas wide
The shimmering of colours
And the masterpiece displayed
Pales to a dream's sunset sky

The colours of a dream
Cannot exist inside a world
Where a spectrum draws the bounds
It comprises of
Such shades unknown
And hues that are yet unfound

Could you take a sound
Refine its shining tone
Purer than an angel's voice
Compared to the symphony
Of what a dream composes
The former would sound just as noise

The notes that Mozart
And Beethoven shared
And utilized with great might
Is merely a glance
Into the realm
Where dreams' music brings forth light
Could you take the smell;
The aroma of a flower
And magnify it's voracity
Never could it match
A dreams imagination
Neither in wealth or intensity

The many perfumes
Of the many fields
Have tried to meet that mark
But as dreams are born
And freshness engulfs
The fields might well be stark

Could you take a sample
Of the million sauces
In the greatest banquet ever held
None would compare
To the taste of dreams
When on it the heart is felt

Mere science will try
To explain the proceedings
Of the chemical reactions in taste
But without the dream
There is no mind
And the banquet is a waste

Could you take a sensation
Of a material's contact
That invigorates and refreshes
But compared to the dawn
Of a dream achieved
The touch itself is senseless

Though touch itself
Is the world's comment
In a place where all is dark
But the flight of dreams
Fresh from innocent minds
Brings the eagle's flight to a lark's

Dreams bring our world
To a realm beyond
Undefined by our five senses
Let the Dreamers dream
And the world will change
As the Dreamer seeks the Mentor

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