Posted by: Ron DuBour | August 19, 2018

Somnambulant Reflexes*~by Constancio Sulapas Asumen Jr



CCCXCVII ~> Somnambulant Reflexes*

CCCXCVII ~> Somnambulant Reflexes*
(Opus397 ~> Wages of Somnambulance)
Waking up to the strains of Beethoven’s
Sixth Symphony, simply makes The Pastoral
Sound magical. The faint bucolic strains
Submerge the senses vastly prodigal,
Beyond compare in realms phenomenal:
The promise of a day of thunder storms
Bereft, made tangible from subtle norms!
Waking up with an all familiar itch
Makes you suspicious of events last night;
Whether you wound up an abortive pitch
Or the pitch thrown, got you blown out of sight,
Let oblivion disown it from your fight:
Proof of the itching lies in your scratching
Not the beseeching nor the stealth snitching!
There’s no such thing as proper waking up.
Unless you’re looking for the perfect snooze.
The whisper of hangover does not stop
Sooner than the last dose of pungent booze
Molest between your ears, the screws get loose:
Condign wages for stealth somnambulance
Consign pages from classic comeuppance!
*Hook image (Bosch14Garden-of-Delights-DetailsH 397.jpg), sequestered uncaptioned, from the Pinterest Hieronymus Bosch cyber collection reached my email inbox by gratis subscription.

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