I had a dream last night, and Jane was in it.

Just towards the end, not quite a minute.

For some reason, I was lying supine, in a chair

And for the first time, I knew her by her voice, and not her hair.

At some stage shed tossed cards into my lap

Onto my rug, awoke me from my nap

There was some comment, smiling; Id impressed her mother.

She turned to go, but I reached out to keep her near.

I do not know at all why she was there

Or for that matter my part in this affair

She smiled again, turned to me, stayed to talk

with me; A blessing, for I could not walk.

Thats all I can recall of that short dream

I woke to start my day with shaving cream

And here I am, no further in my life than then

Obsessed by thoughts of Jane.