Poetry ~ A Sleep’s Close

Form rests,
upon chair,
sleep takes hold.

Feeding on,
slice of existence,
desiccated and thrown away.

When eyelids flutter,
it all shall begin again,
brief parting from,
toils and troubles.

Bubble back,
forefront of mind,
ringing ensemble chimes in new day.

I shutter off to sleep.
Ending of beginnings weep.
Clutter of nocturnal abyss.

Sleeping eclipsed.

Perpetual rhythm of bleak turnstile,
to the River Styx.

Lay brain filled vessel down,
upon soft satin or cold stoic ground,
all the same.

Numbers counting down.
End this maze we walk.

Pennies please!

Counting down dates with X’s.
Ferryman’s toll…
Never notice small complexities.

Mutations spawning,
breaking time’s unforgiving spindle.

Near to far seeing car to car,
purple woods and golden tar.

The tree’s dance!
The moon is entranced.

Giggling gophers ramrod elegant peacocks.
Logic nor rules given black lace.
Rhyme before reason of shifted phase.

Have I returned?
What the Hell!