There's a rumor inside my head
warning me about monsters under my bed ,
So I twist and turn ... cuddled with fear
waiting for the first sparks of dawn to hear.
With measured breaths, the pillow seems to relax
unaware of the lurking facts ...
And I wish to be a soft fluffy one too
undisturbed sleep, and no tears that weep.
The sheep's hop across the barn
immensity guided by the ball of yarn ,
rolling down the pathway into the pond ...
The ripples drown without a sound.
The sun bullies through the window
leaving no trace of the nights shadow.
Somewhere amid the wandering of the night
ended the life of that thought ...
And as I awaken to this new day
churning again are the chains of new thoughts.
