from the threshing floor – 6

i long for sleep,
that fickle former lover,
who used to welcome me
as a bequeath

but now avoids me,
or if, under cover,
it is some other set
she’s underneath.

and so i drive,
in body and in spirit,
across whatever
roads, however far,

and leave a tune there
for whom haps to hear it,
that might just bring some sleep
to where

they are

Sleep, My Friend

And so at last, the night has brought its food –
An offering of stars upon a plate;
The moon is watching, and might think it rude
If you should choose not to participate

So sleep, my friend, let clouds and pillows mix;
Let tired mind and muscle have their ease –
It’s time for dreams to do their magic tricks;
To lift you out, upon the scented breeze

Remember not the troubles of the day
And sleep, my friend, just sleep the night away