The heart is tired and growing heavy,
the body's calling me to sweet sleep;
I say so long for things today,
as the land of Nod in stillness creeps.
I will dream and not remember,
I will wake, let's hope, refreshed;
even in the fog of early morning,
as sleep and wakefulness, are meshed.
Goodnight to friends and fellow poets,
thanks for all the joys you bring;
that tug at our emotions daily,
that cause the weary soul to sing.
Sharing grievance with the world,
sharing every happiness;
without your voices heard and raised,
your poems would all be sorely missed.