Precious Sleep

Early in the evening
my lids are heavy,
I can feel the coins
already on my eyes.

Sleep, precious sleep,
lures me in.

Early in the morning,
the house is quiet,
the stillness is audible
and only I am restless.

Sleep, precious sleep,
eludes me again.

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2 Comments

Filed under Poetry

2 responses to “Precious Sleep

  1. I was only going to press “like” (because I really did!), and then I read your blurb above the comment section… and I loved it… and I was compelled to say so.

    “Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.”

    So good.

  2. I happen to love the house in the early morning when it’s quiet and I feel that I have it all to myself. 🙂

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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