Insomnias Friend

By Debborah Jensen

5AM the house is Quiet,

Not in it's usual Riot.

Pensive sitting, bluish screen,

Examining, self to come clean.

Up all night insomnias friend.

Tried to sleep gave up in the end.

Knowing no sleep not good for nerves,

really tried, but did not serve.

For here sitting, writing cuplets in time,

compaired to the dervish it is sublime.

Nyquil will bomb the voices, and beast,

Get a few hours of rest at least.

Then this poem would die unwritten,

So here I sit, me and my kitten.

No rest for the wicked,I've heard say,

then one gets tired in the day.

Sleep to restore the body and mind,

trying to sleep, but sleep isn't kind.

It doesn't abide in this riotous breast,

Repose isn't in the family crest.

Insomnia, my mothers companion as well.

And now I get to share her private hell.

Hours of walking the house at night,

Eventually staying awake, give up the fight.

What keeps you awake many will say?

My body, my mind at night want their play.

Not enough to work all the day long.

Must listen to the creatures of the nights song