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Updated on August 5, 2011


Early is late

Late is early

I lose track these days

On this endless loop

That is time


Something I posses a lot of these days

Time to think

Time to write

But never time to dream

Sleep eludes me like a falling star

Fleeting fast

So fast that in a blink of an eye

It dissipates

To a wondrous place

So tangible you can almost taste

The sweet nectar

Of that sacred act

Dear to so many


I long for it

The waves of calm

Relief from the demands

Of the waking world

I can sail on clouds

Or fly through the air

I can see landscapes never touched by man

And hold the moon in my hands


I long to hear lullabies

Echoing softly in my mind

Painting pictures

Far surpassing any masterpiece

Created by an artist


I would give anything to have

Just one hour

One second

One moment

Of that wonderful word



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    • BethanyLynn211 profile image

      BethanyLynn211 6 years ago from Bangor, Pa

      Thank you for the positive feedback WB =]

    • Wayne Brown profile image

      Wayne Brown 6 years ago from Texas

      Nice pace and rhythm and just the right choice of words to make this a wonderful poem about an enjoyable subject! WB

    • BethanyLynn211 profile image

      BethanyLynn211 6 years ago from Bangor, Pa

      Thank you all for your positive feedback! =] I will be sure to read all of your work and do the same.

    • profile image

      ExoticHippieQueen 6 years ago

      Awesome poem, BethanyLynn. I feel that way, too.......the ever elusive night of good sleep to erase the complexities of the day(s). Voted up and awesome.

    • CM Sullivan profile image

      CM Sullivan 6 years ago from California

      I really liked that, the buried treasure for the insomniac, sleep.

    • blairtracy profile image

      blairtracy 6 years ago from Canada

      I really enjoyed reading your poem.