Sleepless Nights
In late hours when I should be sleeping
Peacefully beneath the down duvet
My mind races on and tumbles over words
And thinks of things I've yet to say.
It starts poems running through my head
With endings just a little out of reach
And so I stay awake and write.
My creativity I beseech.
If thoughts would come by wholes not halves,
Poems I could dash off left and right.
But bits and pieces is what I get
While trying to sleep late at night.
So pen and paper my bed-mates be.
I keep them close in case of need.
To jot my jumbled thoughts down on
When the start of a poem plants a seed.
I should be sleeping this I know
But turn them off I cannot do.
So poetry starts and stops all night,
And these sleepless nights, I've had a few.
Copyright © Francine Roberts | Year Posted 2010
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