Until… too late

Slipping slowly,
deeper, deeper drowning
into sleep
no counting sheep
embraced by dreams
entranced until
my beasts again
erupt from deep within,
they ask me why?
and how or what?

my heart is racing
sheets are serpents
too much at stake,

Cactus Man
Odilon Redon

Today Sarah hosts the Quadrille at dVerse and the word to incorporate in a 44 word poem is sleep.

May 16, 2022

22 responses to “Until… too late

  1. I like how you describe the process of being calmly lulled into sleep’s embrace only to be disturbed by unwelcome messengers. If only they’d bring them in a more pleasant format, but sometimes they need to get assertive so you’ll notice them. If you can write them down and diagram them maybe you can figure out what they are trying to tell you. (Look for puns!)

  2. As if the serpent sheets weren’t enough, you have to give us the Cactus Man too, eh, Brother? Thanks a bunch. Marvelous work!

  3. Perfect accompanying pic by Redon. Nightmare, insomnia and a poet’s brain are working overtime here. I have definitely been there, my slumber being assassinated by the ninja sheets.

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