rhyming as sleep aid

(a week with no words - wakes you up at 2am with itchy fingers)

After midnight with no one around
the wolves are silent, well profound
atop a mountain, climbing down
to the heart of an ocean underground

what sleep may come with a beating drum
nobody now to rub my tum
lie on the floor and pray for sun
when morning makes you run

the glow persists, vigil screen
too old to pretend to scream
no nightmare pillows, it's you I dream
and plunder what it means.

O fog sit thick atop my brow
tired bones beat back the drowse
warm words rock me gently now
[I see no point asking how.]

1 comment:

Wanderlust Scarlett said...

Hey Cupcake writer... write already! Where are you?