Waking Cronus

Tired lids to buckets of endless hours open cracks and creaks and cold saps their strength. Exhaustion gives and so do lids for I was not born a god. As end to time, results evade. Exasperation grasps unthinking. Sudden shaking, endless quaking; Axes work upon my trunk and limbs as children join my garden of dreams. Growling, grasping and blind, reaching for those brave souls -though errant spawn evade. Yet, a fallen titan, Cronus, I shall rise again; a new day has dawned. Pulleys creak and levers groan, "Overwork!" they cry, but work they do as I wake. One thought I have, a simple dream: I truly wish that someday -past dawn -past six o' clock -maybe even eight the kids might deeply, sweetly sleep.