good dreams

Olga Matushkina

GoodDreams

That night tiny Snowflake

couldn’t fall asleep.

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She was wondering where the good dreams

live.

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To find one, Snowflake rushed

downstairs.

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May be they live in rose gardens, inside of the white

and pink roses

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May be they live in blackberry

muffins, and smell so good

people turn towards themtheir noses.

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May be the good dreams are shy,

and they live in the kitchen, among the jars.

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May be they really love to fly, and they live high in the mountains, near the stars.

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Suddenly something moved under

the kitchen table. Snowflake curled up in a blanket.

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“Woof!” — said lab-rador Ruby and

moved in her sleep. She was having her own good dream.

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May be some good dreams live in the granny’s

room, and they play with her cat and hide her glasses.

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May be they live in the primary

school, and fly away every morning

when children come for the classes

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Snowflake looked everywhere, but

there was no trace of the good dreams.

She yawned, and went back to her

room.

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The moon sparkled. Two little frogs

jumped in the garden.

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Knock, knock! Hush, hush

Good dreams quietly marsh.

Like the fairies they bring stories and tales,

And they sing their song: “Bala-boo, bala-bash”.

They dance, they jump,

They play the drum,

But when someone in a house wakes up —

The good dreams end up their fun.

They say “good day!” and go away.

But when we sleep they start again

Tell their stories, and play, and marsh

And sing their song: “Bala-boo, bala-bash”.

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