that I think that sleep is magical, as are confetti picture frames, glitter-dusted rose-petals, miniature houses, vintage buttons, bows, a good biography, and a moment to breathe.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih7km4OYbjNcucdt-jk4fdRu-ya7fiMkbygYxjUxaSDkEPvZGqE2LdonpnIC3KzBS3e-uSE4XatGOM3p2FO4x3uJ6tLdWH_4gjcIEaqKQxRCFjOn9HZPlUpyDub9FjUwnivy_flIkJLmg/s400/merricat4.jpg)
Goodnight.
HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
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