Sounds real and imagined: a poem about tinnitus

My lone ear hears a symphony
of two mules, trains, and rain.
The best is yet to come to me,
Bob Dylan once explained.
But here I dwell in paradise
Beside my closest friend.
Our one flat acre, fruitful, lush,
He'll tirelessly tend.
We dwell with mules and goats and dogs,
Precocious daughters three
Who play beside the wilderness
In fields bedecked in green.
My rabbits are aleap with joy!
My fowl scratch and dabble.
My little tigers prowl about
And supervise the rabble.
There's no redundant voice at play,
No song I'd lay to bed,
Save these tuneless, wild noises
Stalking restless through my head.