Poem -
SLEEP
Sleep is a country
whose border guards are fickle.
Some travellers.
slip in and out without
effort, unquestioned.
For them, sleep is routine
and therefore granted.
Ā others, it is an excursion
from which they bring back
exotic souvenirs and memories of
archetypal visitations.
in transit, sleep can be bribed
for a short time .
but will return to take the full price
that you owe
for you will feel your life force ebb
if you are unable to enter
sleep will torment you
the abusers..the bed swerving anarchists...
for you will be deniedĀ
to ever rest in peace
Ā
Like 2 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
You have a particular knack for coming up with offbeat but entirely apposite metaphors.
It's one of the many reasons I love reading your poetry, Pauline.
J ;)
Bed swerver..it's from 12th Night..I love that word....Jason..we all have a style..can't class mine...