THE SLEEP
In wicked Forlorn's blackened keep
where prisoners wail and fairies weep
there lived a small and lively sleep
who wandered aimlessly.
The sleep would visit those who moaned
and creep betwixt the rotting stones,
keep company with folks alone
to drive off misery.
At night it showered sweets and wine
in glorious silent pantomime.
Sad souls threw off their conscious crimes
such was his company.
There in amongst the sunless muck
perfumed flowers, a babbling brook
and the lonely luckless were not stuck
without the hope of dreams.
The sleep enabled aged men
to kung-foo fearsome martial clans
with nun-chucks made of chained bed pans
used wisely and with ease.
A sailor who did take a snooze
saw under flying fish that cruise.
An octopus inked his own tattoos.
He woke upon the seas.
A siesta showed a mermaid's mirth
while swimming up above the earth
saw storks assisting in the birth
of pleasant memories.
So...
If feeling grumpy, mean or meek
remember whilst your counting sheep
you're waiting on a little sleep
to visit you as well.
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