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