I had been feeling ill all day Sunday. By 9 pm, I had developed hell's own headache and my body felt like it had been through an industrial strength cardboard crusher. I had lots still to do, but I felt so very weary. I had the "bright" idea of having an hours nap in the hope that on awakening, I would feel well enough to complete my day's tasks before I headed to sleep proper.

It didn't quite work out as planned. I slept the sleep of the dead and awoke after 2 am, not feeling any better, but a lot worse. To add insult to injury, despite my woes, sleep would not return. The pounding in my head has put paid to that!

Hence my poem.

I'm sure readers of my words will have had, at some point in their lives, experienced the frustration of what I have gone through last night and this morning. My only saving grace is that being a writer, my hours are my own.

However, I am a hard task master, ill or not! Please enjoy my words!

MS