Woolgathering

I couldn't sleep last night, and this is the result

“Woolgathering”

 

I lay awake
Into the night
Listening as
The crickets fight

 

To quell this restless
Path I trod,
To lead me to
The land of Nod.

 

To sleep! To sleep
Per chance to dream,
Like ghosts of Shakespeare
Taunting me

 

As Morpheus turns
His amaranthine head,
He won’t take comfort
From my bed.

 

So I lay awake
Into the deep
Not drifting off,
Not counting sheep

 

Woolgathering
Listless and forlorn,
Will I find rest
Before the morn?
 

Reviews

[Wildfleour]

An excellent write.

[Bonnie]

I like the rhythm and imagery of your poem.

The feelings evoked are not 'cheerful' and yet real.

I have had such restless nights, with that question

Will I find rest
Before the morn?

[Rain Bo]

Wow. You've found a way to make insomnia poetical. Bravo.

:]

And, yes. I know that isn't a word.