When the day is over,
And you feel that urge for sleep…
Then it’s time to hit the hay,
And count those bloody sheep…
Mine, don’t make in the paddock,
I’m asleep once I lay down…
Whilst there are so many others,
Who lie there with a frown…
After numerous attempts,
They finally close their eyes…
If only for a few hours,
Before that sun does rise…
But it’s when you are asleep,
And in your comfort zone…
You can do strangest things,
Whilst resting on your bones…
Snoring is most common,
This is the case for most…
From a quiet little whimper,
To chainsaw cutting posts…
And next there are those talkers,
Who have conversations through the night…
Singing, and ranting phrases,
Not knowing of their plight…
Sleepwalkers are a minority,
Few and far between…
They simply come and go,
Then quickly leave the scene…
And then there are those weirdo’s,
That sleeps with one eye open…
Always in surveillance mode,
Until, they are awoken…
You may be the restless one’s,
Who relives those dreadful dreams…
As you get entangled between the sheets,
We can hear your muffled screams…
Whatever you may do,
You’re unique in your own way…
Feel free to get some sleep,
Before night turns into day…!
Len Newey 2016