Dream of Burton

During the season of Fall, in a particular deep slumber

I happened upon a realm

Where reality could not encumber

Falling through a scrim of black

And white

And swirls

And twirls

I landed amongst a troupe with wide eyes and, hair made of wiry curls.

A carnival was at hand!

The type where popcorn littered the ground

Tim Burton was working the ferris wheel, making it swirl round and, round

With a bow and, his hands clasped in gratitude he humbly gestured;

In response to my “Im a huge fan” remark as my delight increasingly festered

With a shy smile and, a twitch of mischief in his eyes

He invited me to walk with him on a dirt path with dusk falling in the skies

In silence, I absorbed all he divulged to me

We turned a corner where a dusty shack was and, he offered me tea

Dust sprinkled both our unruly hair using beams of fading sunlight

While Tim poured a most delightful tea that tasted and, filled me like that of midnight

Who knows how many times the moon circled around the two of us in that shack.

But, time is a construct for creatives and I never wanted to go back

We chatted as equals

mentor and novice

All of his work, the guidance he bestowed I’ll forever keep

I promise

What he said to me won’t ever be spoken or penned.

This moment still very real, now as it was then, had sadly come to an end

My reality appeared

It was time to awaken and, accept all that I certainly feared

Slowly closing the door Tim bid me farewell

He thanked me for the afternoon of trusted amity

Waving he faded. I braced for calamity

But I awoke with a smile; creative senses afloat

I met Tim Burton in dream

And thanks to that dream of Tim

I am finally filled with melodic hope


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