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Dec 2024
A dampness spreads across the duvet - plop,
the rhythm ticks away in sleepless drops
of time, until my clock bell rings out loud.
Then groping, reaching, fumbling, I find stop.

Surrounded by my polyester cloud,
its cozy white insomniac soft shroud
turns starkly freezing, waiting for the light.
Another rocky field waits to be ploughed.

Against the bed’s warm gravity, I fight
to rise and face the early, bright sunlight;
still sleepy, battle to the bedroom door
and end my long and wakeful, antsy night.

In stretching daylight hours, I fight a war
to keep the grey at bay, using my store
of energy to keep me swimming, or
exhausted drown in waking sleep once more.
Trying a Rubaiyat in iambic pentameter.
Written by
Gerry Sykes  66/M
(66/M)   
70
   TangerineBlu3, Nick Moore, CC and N
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