Lying Awake

The things you think of when you can't sleep,
how I wish my slumber was beautifully deep;
I think of making love to you under a palm tree,
you're dark eyes widen and smile, full of mystery.

I write my poems in dreams as only a writer can,
young was good because the child is father of the man;
I think of a silly tv ad: a mule is showing teeth mean,
in a Scottish accent - 'Finish your clean with Listerine.'
 
I should have been an ad-man, L'oreal wanted hot,
then I came up with: 'Because you're worth it,' no you're not;
I hate counting sheep, every sunday evening on English tv,
why not pound notes or lions, or mules grinning inanely.

Finally, I'm off - transported to valleys with rolling hills,
then I wake up and remember - 'Damn, I forgot to take my pills,'