To Bed

OK, now, I’m off to bed.

My clock says 3 and a bit.

I know, by now, that you must think

That, at this time, all I say is shit.

I’m tired, yup, that’s understood

But reason is not lost,

Verity is paramount.

But sometimes at a cost.

So let me here reiterate,

Hear me now and don’t berate

The words of one who seeks to speak

Always truth

Except for when

Your arse is massive in that frock,

And, Jesus wept, you think you rock

At singing,

Well, that’s not for me

To disillusion fantasy.

And though I do not seek to hurt

It does not here extend

To invites to my little clan

Oh, God, for fear offend.

You’re welcome for a cup of tea

A biscuit and a cake,

Of course, I bought them

Do you really think that

I have time to make

Empire biscuits,

Cookie dough?

Absolutely not.

Claiming such accomplishments

A crock, a pile of rot.

So, what is good?

What’s understood?

If name is on my list,

I cordially invite you here,

We’ll natter,

(May get pissed).

One thing’s for sure,

In case you doubt it,

I do not invite lightly,

I am just short of anti-social,

Well, maybe more than slightly.

These virtual parties are some fun

But person hugs are better

My loud and quiet self agree

That we all need a natter,

A smile to see, a hand to hold,

A hug, a pat on back.

Ether world, therefore,

Has something that it lacks.

Well, God almighty,

Why would anyone

Invite unto their table?

Well, here’s a difference.

Let me speak,

While I am still able

(Fuck’s sake it’s 4.05 GMT),

In my life

There’s only few, who me

Have so impressed

Consider them, if you wish,

So blessed?

To catch the eye of

One so cynical,

And at times, depressed.

OK, so, you’re thinking now,

This woman is a nutter,

She speaks and rattles on without

A pause or even stutter.

I know, I know,

It’s always so.

My quiet shouts to loud,

Get to bed,

Stop talking…….

Oh my God!

I slept on couch!

I’ve wakened now at seven,

The dog is barking,

Hubby’s up

And I am upright sleeping.

Oh well, bugger it,

I started so I’ll end,

Welcome to my little world

My blogospheric friend.

And just to prove that

God has hand in what I say and think,

Feckin internet has gone again,

I’ve exhausted to the brink

Its capabilities to transmit

But worry not,

This piece of shit

Of router will be soon replaced.

Monday sees a different face.

A promise from R. Branson’s team

To salvage or perhaps redeem

With shiny, new and dust free router,

Jeez, I hope it’s not my ‘puter

Playing up with such abandon,

So like me, in thoughts quite random

At times.

And sometimes not.

Feckin’ router and feckin’ Virgin media.

I’m fed up talking to them.

Ahh, I think I might go to bed.

At 8.30 in the morning!

Or 10!

Sleep and Work Shenanigans

Dizzy with sleep, he wakes at two.

Breakfast and some irn bru

To chase the sandman from his eyes.

Then on the couch, a little lie

To gather strength to start the day

That’s almost done and gone away.

A shake or two, he’s feeling better,

Opens mail, for him, a letter.

A job, you say, to start at nine?

Oh God, you moan, well, that’s not fine,

Awaking with the birds at dawn,

Not something you can depend upon.

A night-shift would be better, true.

Teenage biorhythms grew

To such extent that day is night

And night is when your mind takes flight.

So, what’s the choice? There isn’t one.

Welcome to my world, my son.

Up in the morning, work all day,

Then off to bed, take time to pray.

Set alarm and don’t be late,

Bosses don’t appreciate

Sleepy headed, idle teens

Who float through day in slumber’s dreams.

A little while and you’ll adjust.

It’s called growing up and so you must

Arise and work and earn your way.

Just think, some effort, then they pay

A pound, a few, it’s not a lot

But that’s the way life chose the plot,

Work and sleep and play some too,

Work some more, to plan and do.

Such a message to take in.

Don’t put that letter in the bin!

You start it, when? Oh, late next week.

Well, off to bed, a shock needs sleep.

When later you are full awake,

Your mind’s had time to assimilate

The hardest fact that life will give;

You have to work to earn to live.

The Right to Rest

I Give In

I really, really do.

According to GMT, it is 4.45a.m.

This, of course means that,

Because I am tired and need to go to sleep,

All suffering has ended for the evening.

And I am so happy.

Because now I can go to sleep in the knowledge that:

No child is hungry,

No child is afraid,

No child whispers dark thoughts to another.

No child wishes for playdates and release from suffering.

I’m so glad that we’ve sorted out the



And only now,

I can rest.

In the knowledge that

All children are happy.

All children are created equal.

Frank Sleeps

My husband waits

Asleep in bed

His hand supports

His weary head.

His body cries its need of rest,

Still another need

Lies in his breast.

This need shall be aroused in me

When I slip beside him quietly.

I’ll take his head upon my breast

And though he has a need for rest

His ardour will become a flame

He will call his wife by my own name.

And when his passion is all spent

He’ll fall to sleep, be heaven-sent.

And this new rest

Will fell his head

Upon his pillow – soft yet firm.

And I will have had my need of him.


Losing the Light

Eyes dimming and fading

To joy.

Illumination diminished.

Darkness creeping across corneas

Blurring edges and long sight,

Short vision.

Looking inwards

Wanting and failing.

Pushing back blackness

Try to hold the light

Perception or procedure

Too tired to think.

Sleep awaits the doubts

And despair

Sleep away.