Sunday, April 3, 2022

Day 3. For Tim


Sleep slips away, silenced susurration.
Only hush, a fading murmuration
A muddle of sheets, a huddled frustration 

Eluded by rest, desperate to dream
I plead with my pillow, I bargain and scheme
To meander again among the unseen

Sleep is my solace, my ease, and my light
My will o’ the wisp, my fairy-lit sprite
It awakens the dead, restores you to sight.

You linger beside, beneath, and behind
A glimmer, a shimmer, a notion of mind
I need not dream, our souls have entwined

(I went off the prompt)

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