Sleepless Night
My pillow sings the blues
of a night spent unused
as sleep, my fickle companion,
impolitely refused
Not a crease mars the linen
nor a dream’s birth was given
The sleepless night was spent
with a book, its binder bent
Pages read and explored
in a tale without reward
As love found no blending
in a story of war unbending
another thief in the night
an ending that wasn’t right
The light of morning’s arrival
finds for me, no revival
Oh sleep, my wretched friend
bid me now no denial
©Debra Squyres 2013
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