Thursday, August 25, 2016

Sleep


Sleep, oh blissful sleep
How I love to count the sheep
Sleep, oh blessed slumber
How I want to count the number

Drifting off to lands uncharted
Seeing dear loved ones departed
Magic flows and spins on high
Makes me move, hover, fly

Darkest dangers and fears await
And I cannot unlock the gate
Trapped within the web of fear
Even asleep I shed a tear

 Lovely sleep where my mind renews
And my awesomeness accrues
Sleep is grand and you can scoff
I love sleep even when alarms go off


Duane Windell Phillips
Copyright August 2016


#poetry #poem #sleep
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