Sleepless
One night exhausts another,
layering sheets and blankets,
wrinkles and folds. Oh, the
body wants to still the mind,
and shedding this weight,
float freely through the night.
Your memory of sleep’s touch
withers as you lie there,
absorbing the fan’s pattern.
How wonderful, then, to finally
drift across the room and settle
in that relaxed corner, among the
cobwebs and shadows and those
frustrated hours now set aside.
“Sleepless: first appeared here in October 2017.
I relate sooooo well – you’ve captured the scene (inner and outer) nicely.
Has anyone done an anthology on insomnia poems? This could be the title poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Now that would be an anthology to read in the middle of the night!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Especially after insomnia kicks in!
LikeLiked by 1 person
And perhaps it might help one fall asleep. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course, that’s possible 🙂
LikeLike
You describe it so well!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m familiar with it! Unfortunately.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh Robert, so relatable, loud whispers are nightly heard in the dark….
” among the
cobwebs and shadows and those
frustrated hours now set aside.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Ivor. They are indeed.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I wrote this one a couple of weeks ago…..
https://ivors20.wordpress.com/2020/01/18/whispers/
LikeLiked by 1 person
love this! thanks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Nancie!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A great poem in which insomnia is been described at its best. Isn’t it weird how ‘sleep’ could be someone’s nickname as a kid, and that nick turns into ‘sleepless’ as an adult?
Things of life usually rob us of our sound sleep as we grow older, I suppose.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Our bodies’ habits certainly change with age!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Which therefore impact our sleep
LikeLike