The sandman with his sack of dreams
comes quietly at eventide
For every child he has it seems
one special dream he drops inside.
The bedroom where they lie asleep
as tired heads on pillows lie.
Into small minds the dreams will creep
and make the night pass pleasantly.
So when they wake to greet the day
well rested, they smile happily.
Gone are the cares of yesterday.
Today is new and untouched yet
as clean cut as a silhouette.
The Sandman never will forget
If you have any suggestions or questions regarding these poems please email me