1,2,3…

Insomnia

I’ve got a passel of worries
Oh, too many to share
when the sun slides over the quarry
I herd them over there

Along with woes and slights
tie them up with coil and snare
so I may travel unburdened to
the land of nod unimpaired.

But the sheep have all been shorn
their wool but bloody too
don’t worry ‘bout me, friend
I’m wearing magic boots

The Sandman gave them to me
he swore it was his name
though it may have been ‘ol Beelzebub
barging in on my counting game.

S Lynn Knight 2016