Sandman

"Sprinkling  delicacies in your irises, 
Floating gently to sit besides you, and tell a tale or two."
I hold the hands of the sleepless trying to give them
the nudge to the early morn.
Numerous sense my presence as I pull them from the 
dark images below the eyelids,to turn off that movie projector.
This task takes floating from individual to individual. 

I.
I travel on to a hospital down the road and,
all dreams of death will pour out of their pores, a cancer stank.
I collect the offensive odor and prepare them for the next days givings.

II.
To the no nonsense lawyers and doctors with dreams of surgery.
I send them success in things other then employment; something to cling on.

III. 
The little girls teddy bear has fallen off her pillow and I wish to cuddle her;
this untainted perfect vessel without societies fingerprint marks.
But I must move on to the next moonlight windowsill.

IV. 
I am moving down the road when I see a wobbly finger, a lost soul.
She is ready to sleep and forget the nights without a roof over her head.
Landing in a wobbly bend, I apply my magic touch and float off.

V. My last visitor is a man I have been watching for many nights, not giving in to sleep.
I crouch and watch him up writing poem after poem, verse after verse cut out.
He turns suddenly and winks at me, a bow required from me. 
Even as I settle down when dawn breaks, the image of the man is stuck in my mind.