"Disprin Times" (Entry 552)

A cold! A cold...

Or if I might be so bold -

The Flu!

What to do?

Disprin times coughs forth

Dispersible measures. 

Lozenges and tinctures,

Medicated treasures. 

Don't call for a doctor,

Croak out for Vick. 

He'll give you the vapours,

That'll do the trick!

Lots of water,

Plus moisturise with lotions.

Hot lemon toddy,

Along with the potions. 

Assortment of remedies 

To tackle this cold - errr, flu!

Then there's the hankies...

Hang on... just a second... Ah... Ah- Atishoo! 

Remember to rest and vitamin C. 

Under the quilt, best place to be. 

(Need to sleep now - I'm afraid I'll drop off. 

So that's the lot. With that I'll... Cough! Cough!)

"Roll End Credits" (Entry 535)

Darkness enveloping behind my eyes, 

rolling in the credits - starring Me - produced by This Day - directed by The Fates. 

It's so late. 

Leaden arms try to heave the carcass up the stairs.

Am I wearing concrete boots?

I don’t remember.

Stare down to bare feet on bedroom carpet,

wearily peeling layers away.

Top layer cardigan worn to stave off the cold.

Try to unbutton a shirt with fingers

that feel as useful as balloon animals.

I wonder if, these are the same that 

deftly moved across the keyboard in rhythmic dance all day?

Eventually, I move to unzip jeans that appear

a size or two smaller than the ones

I jumped into this morning.

Bosom heaved from bra to breathe 

an expanding sigh of relief.

I lie on the bed and do

a horizontal twist 

to remove the last scrap of material from bum and hips.

Snuggle behind the quilt to sleep.

To sleep, with dreams. 

Ahhhhhhh,

What bliss is this!

Credits roll on to The End. 

"Silent Snores" (Entry 459)

Oh? I dream of silence. 

Past your noise. 

Of grunting and groaning

And snores and more. 

But when your pillows cold

And your rest in another place. 

I dream of your breath, your snuffles, your face. 

"What am I to do?" (Entry 428)

In bed. 

Unwell. 

Fed up. 

What to do?

Radio's annoying. 

Telly's too boring. 

Cat is snoring. 

Help me! (imploring)

What am I to do?

Can't read, 

Words jump upon the page. 

Can't write,

Energy low, can't engage. 

What am I to do?

Body's buzzing. 

Head's all fuzzy. 

In a quandary,

In a tizzy!

What am I to do?

Take a drink. 

Think! Think!

Eyes blink, blink. 

On pillow, I sink. 

(Yawn!) What am I to do?

Feeling poorly. A sorry weep. 

Relax, recover. Let calmness creep. 

Recuperation into cells seep. 

I know what to do. Sleep, sleep, sleep!

"Of Nothing" (Entry 402)

I think of nothing

Where I lie. 

For I'm in death. 

We said, goodbye. 

So now for time

Of all forever. 

I slumber on

Without endeavour.

"Crusted Eyes that Want to Sleep" (Entry 268)

Crusted eyes peel apart to wake on another dawn's break.
The memories return - the heart's broken once more.
Tears force through the dried snapped lashes, lids puff beyond the size of the pillow where he laid his head.

And so, her day.

Motions of the mundane too difficult to perform. So she stays in bed - again.
Waiting for night, for those times in between replays of dreams of when they were together, to hit the darkness and quiet of respite.

"Weigh the Night's Wait" (Entry 180)

To seep into sleep.
Body ooze as you doze.
Night's wait will lift as you drift.
Eye lids weighed as you're sedated.
Forget the pounds as you float out of bounds.
Lands of dream lighter than they seem.

"Stay Awake" (Entry 177)

I so want to stay awake.
I know I've been told to sleep.
I pretended I was, a fake.
I don't want a look, only a peep.
They said he'll be here tonight.
Is that hooves I hear at a canter?
I've been good all year, I know it's alright.
I just want this eve to spy on Santa!

"Awake" (Entry 153)

There used to be a time when he would brag about this.
"Man! Didn't get to sleep all night! Didn't even... even get to bed!"
A wry wink from bleary low beams.

Tonight, he was in bed. Awake.
Eyes forced shut only to trigger spring back.
The rest of the world at peace.
He could feel it.
Not him.

He knew why.

Alone.
Echoing siren rattled through the room.
The sound carried through static air from the Interstate.
He gripped the sweat soaked sheet,
and thrashed to turn transfixed at the alien object by his bed.
"They're coming to get me!"
He screamed as he stared at the blood stained dagger.

"Awake. Oh, to Sleep" (Entry 137)

Awake. Neon digits warp. Pillow flattened
and sworn at. Open eyes forced shut.
Can't close down the mind.
Never a comfortable spot.
'Til dawn. Worn out fighting to delight in...
Asleep.
At the wrong time.

"Nap" (Entry 118)

Dip into tap. Time to take a nap.
The cat lapped at the sap of life.
Nip at the cap to rap on this 'n' that.
Ain't it fab?

"The World Asleep" (Entry 114)

The world never sleeps and always sleeps.
Beneath a darkened veil.
When sunlight peeps, the breath it seeps
to tell the earth a tale.

"The Innocence Sleep" (Entry 107)

There's no difference between
a sleeping child or kitten.
Breath calm and light,
snuffles of warm delight.
Eyelids flicker as lashes bat away the day.
Legs aquiver as in dreams, they play.
Creating their energy score
for their next adventures and more.
In that breath so calm and light,
warm and cozy in the night.

"Camp First Contact" (Entry 102)

Cold of the night began to seep
into sleeping bag.
The type of chill that groundsheet
could not still.
Unstaved, to snore and grumble
in undreamed sleep.
Comatosed hand scratched at arse
within quilted cocoon,
replied with a grunt and a fart of
satisfaction as, deep and low,
the rumbling began.
Dull throve of engine getting closer,
churning up the skies to
whip the air,
and rip the flimsy tent away.
No longer sheltered,
at visitors, he gasped and gapped.
At first light and contact,
now totally awake.

"I Dream Of" (Entry 97)

I dream of honey flakes and
Hippopotami and hungry hamsters
And the hound that wants to fly.
I dream of happiness and
Hypnotherapy and hiccups
And home, that's the place we want to be.

"Dream Catcher Lost" (Entry 85)

Missed it.
Again.
Late nights lost a brilliance.
Cast out into mortal realm,
found on saliva soaked pillow,
indented and creased across the forehead.
Idea erased.
Glowing green digits emblazoned into retinas.
Missed it.
Inspiration fantasy lost in the morning.
To live another day without the glimpse of early genius.
Divine dream dazed and departed.

"That Sinking Feline" (Entry 56)

Feline filled the sink like a furry bean bag.
Curled up, visage veiled beneath the tail.
Shock of warm ginger stripe against ceramic bright tooth white.

Door opens, light pulls on.
Cat raises a sleepy head,
blinks olive marbled eyes
and jaws a yawn to show python fangs.

He stretches and ambles to perch on the edge,
ease of balance that would put a tight rope walker to shame.
He miaows in demanding tones,
and eyes the tap and empty sink.
"Fill it up. I want a drink!"

"Pillow Talk" (Entry 52)

Squashed and squished into his shape.
Indented with his presence,
his being, his scent, his essence.
Won't fluff it to even oblong,
not unformed by plump or preen,
to see where my bed fellow's been.
Pillow proven my love's been here,
held and nestled the man I adore,
until he embraces me once more.

"Feline Fantasy" (Entry 48)

paws quiver... whiskers tremble...
tiny mewing... fantasy assemble.
Where does he go? When he dreams.
Furry kitten... more than he seems.

"What I See As You Sleep" (Entry 39)

The breath
The hush
The snuffle
The snore
The mutters
and eye dream flickers,
all I adore.

The farts
The burps
The saliva dribble
The scratching
and slobbers,
I even love these,
(without - much quibble.)