The dream merchant

Every day, at the appointed hour,
He comes and stands exactly here-
With his wares...colors of joy'
Green, yellow,purple, red, blue...

Every day, he draws the jolly faces,
Innocent smiles and wishes,
Obliging olds and insistent youngs...

He sells-
Dreams,wishes,wails,smiles
He sells-
Happiness amidst strife and hurry...

A dream

I woke up the way
usually I had woken up a millionth time earlier...
Sublime, sensuous and pure,
Covered by the broken bricks and mortars,
Against a perspective of a gray gray sky...

And,
There was the rain and the shine,
The blackness dotted by the white-
'Polka dots'...
They say;

And,
A pink blossom pressing up to meet the blue,

And,
A 'yellow submarine' diving deep into my belly;

And,
A rubbished thought spreading tentacles to get the sap;

And,
A pinkish dream, a balloon and a lucid existence...