Slumber
Slumber, Slumber,
Oh, to Snore like Lumber...
It gives me the creeps,
When I can get no sleep.
Is it the night?
Or some other fright...
No, it's what can't be heard,
The unwritten word.
When you know you need to write,
But are in that plight...
Where the words will come not,
Like a memorable tune now forgot.
It makes me stay awake,
Drinking the coldest coffee I can take...
Until the dawn comes 'round,
When the words can abound.
Oh, to once go off to sleep,
Knowing the words are there to keep...
Still, the pristine papers await,
The words to bound across them in their gait.
Then "Adieu" will I say,
For the opening of the day...
The words are there,
For me to share.
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