Make Me sleep . . . . . .

Too many things going round in my head when I'm in bed,
I'd like to get some 'waking' sleep now before I'm finally dead; 
then you're at peace - don't have to get up to go to the toilet,
although does life go on - old habits die hard - I might forget.

That I'd passed away, they talk about me now but didn't then,
know they're safe from rebuke because I wasn't coming again;
I may smoke in the middle of the night, give the wife a fright,
they found me there, still dreaming when came morning light.

I dreamt of white coral sand and walking in some foreign land,
you were there, that smile, acknowledgement, as I held your hand;
they say that you dream of events of the day but not been before,
as though I'd been led, admonished, through a heavenly door.

Now I'm ready for my eight hours - might even write in my sleep,
if I need absolution then I'm prepared to take a quantum leap.