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Poems On / About SLEEP  5/22/2013 8:22:33 AM
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  157.     

My Baby Sleeps

The wind is loud in the west to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The wild wind blows with all its might,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, and he does not hear
The noise of the storm in the pine trees near.

The snow is drifting high to-night,
But Baby sleeps;
The bitter world is cold and white,
But Baby sleeps;
My Baby sleeps, so fast, so fast,
That he does not heed the wintry blast.

The cold snows drift, and the wild winds rave,
But Baby sleeps;
And a white cross stands by his little grave,
While Baby sleeps;
And the storm is loud in the rocking pine,
But its moan is not so deep as mine.
 
George A. Mackenzie

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  158.     

Sleep

Sleep

Can’t sleep
I n s o m n I a c
S o I c o u n t s h e e p
Or Meditate


Sleep comes
Deep sleep
Vivid dreams
Illuminating the past


Sleep is
A way of escape
A welcome rest
A window on eternity


Sleep means
Shutting down senses
No more seeing hearing
Tasting feeling or smelling


Soul sleep means
Partial death
Temporary death
Total resurrection


Signum crucis
Protection against
The unknown
Evils that assail



Sleep on, my soul
The end is nigh
Spring follows winter
As day follows night

In the immortal words
Of Julian of Norwich,
’For all shall be well
And all shall be well

And
All manner of thing
Shall be well’
Shall be well
Shall be well.



©2009
James Hart
 
James Hart

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  159.     

Sleeping Beauty Sells Herself

Sleeping Beauty
Sells herself down
In the market street
Pretty laces and belts
To cover her thin hips
And amplify her breasts

But when she sleeps
She looks like a
Sleeping Beauty
Classical face and
Relaxed jaw, like
A princess should look

She’s beautiful
Not smart, though
That was her gift
And even a hundred
Years of sleep can get
A girl awfully hungry

So she pins up
Her petticoats to her
Garters and juts out her
Hips and Sleeping Beauty
Sells herself for pennies
In the streets

You look like a princess
Her men tell her
After they’ve had their fill
With your face docile and still
You look like Sleeping Beauty
Asleep among the roses

Maybe it hasn’t been
A hundred years yet
She suggests as she drifts
Back into sleep
Her lips pursued and
Awaiting that kiss

The moral of the
Fairy Tale is This:
Everything little girl
Is a Sleeping Beauty
Some just wake up
Before their time
 
Elizabeth Rebel

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  160.     

Sleep? Date Written 05/02/2008

I should sleep, my neck it tells me so
But there within the cold quilt I'm alone.
I should sleep and leave this vile machine now
But it calls me to caress its keys once more.

I don't sleep the way I really ought to
My words they need insomnia to live.
I don't sleep and my life becomes a muddle
But there's nothing I can do to right this wrong.

I need sleep, my body's hungry for it
For I know that in the morning I'll be tired.
I need sleep for a dream of someone near me
But it won't fill the space that's empty by my side.

I won't sleep and my eyes will become blackened
And my body will yearn for tender touch.
I won't sleep for I'm running out of time here
And life is precious time never recouped.
 
Clare McWilliams

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Poems On / About SLEEP