Get me a bed
Make it fit for a peasant
To rest head
And weary soul. No 'stead
Is necessary
For this dilapidated sleep
Candidate is steady
On back, or front, or side.
As long as bed
Resides in the dry
And dark, away from stars
And cheery Moon
With her full intent to
Make me 'bey
Lead me now to slumber
I succumb. Surrender
My thoughts
Remove them with my dusty
Clothes and timeless watch
And dreamlessly
Collapse.
No chance perhaps of
Cover? To blanket out
The stray ramblings
That still wander aimlessly
Through the fields of thoughts
Like lost sheep.
Counting them never did release
The sleep
Instead it lead to more
Pointless counting
And thinking
And rambling
And -
Dear God if sleep keeps a man sane
Then mad me not!
For simply sleep is my calling...
Not eternal. Just till dusk
Is dawning and shaking off night,
Carelessly sprinkling his dew
While pulling on morning.
No other mourning is required this night
Thank you Oh Creator.
And with eyes heavy with sleep
I bequest You
Forgive this demanding peasant
Who till now has done nothing
But ask favour.
At las-
