Insomnia
Insomnia
Insomnia covets my body
, but silent the night
In such peaceful wake
, Is a welcome sight
No theft of distraction
, within virgin thought
And an abundance of calm
, to finish my work
Where will my fingers
, digress for unwitting
Which ever prognosis
, my mind is submitting
The subject matter
, is all but too adherent
Capered to a sentence
, between the convenient
How still the night
, by the twitching flames
Casting the weary
, of shadowed remains
But brightens the letters
, to a manageable type
Defining the stealth
, of the flickering light
Hard rubbed eyes
, and a yawning retire
To this steady crackle
, of a roaring fire
Awaiting the outcome
, of coffee’s discretion
To enter my slumber
, but not my intention
© Robert "Rogano" Anderson 2008
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| Section | Special: domestic interiors |
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