Ticking of the Clock

Tick tock. Tock tick.
The incessant ticking of the clock
Long minutes turned into long hours
Clicking like the turning of a lock

How long have I lain here
Waiting for sleep to come?
Listening to time shed like skin
I’d hate to tally up the sum

I’ve counted a million sheep
Drank endless glasses of warm milk
Said my prayers and laid upon my pillow
Its gentleness softer than silk

So why hasn’t sleep visited me?
Have I offended you, old friend?
Please don’t forsake me now!
Allow me to make amends.

2011 Moira G. Gallaga©

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