Sleep (an acrostic poem)

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Soundlessly floating among clouds of thought

Leaping from one random thing to the next, but trying to create a narrative

Eventually to his sleep-addled brain, it all made sense

Everything a flow of deranged circumstances distilled into a crazy story

Pushing slumber back into consciousness, the construct fades, but the emotional memory remains

Pillow (an acrostic poem)

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Plowing and sowing the world of sleep

It was hard work, but he was a farmer to his soul

Little furrows stretched to the horizon containing the roots of fertile dreams and scream-inducing nightmares

Lying there, waiting to be harvested

Once he was ready and picked them, Morbius would pay him handsomely for this crop

Wait till the slumbering humans were served these delectables!

Begin (an acrostic poem)

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Been looking to start something else

Even though I have five hundred or so projects in the works.

Given all that, something new has caught my eye.

I wonder if I could squeeze it in if I sacrifice something else.

Nobody really needs to sleep, right?

Yawn (an acrostic conversation)

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You know you could go to bed earlier?”

And do what?  Sleep?  I don’t have the time.”

With how often you your mouth’s open and stretching? You’d have more time than you think”

Nah.  All that’s because you bore me.”

Drain (an acrostic poem)

Didn’t have any time to recharge, so down went another bottle of caffeine and sugar

Really, sleep was in order, demanded even, but she ignored it

As she had too much to do and way too little time to get it all done

It would have made her cry, except after fifteen years of doing this, this was normal

Now if she had only believed her mother before she had become a mother herself…

Builder (an acrostic poem)

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Boosting those around her every day

Underpinning the sagging self-worth of the masses

It was a never-ending battle against the entropy of existence

Leaving her drained every evening when she went to bed

Drifting to sleep while praying that she could do more

Everyone was amazed how much one woman could do

Remarkable a mother could do

New Year (an acrostic poem)

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Now everyone was counting the seconds

Excited about a new beginning, a new something

What changes were possible

Yet he sat on the couch and sipped his champagne calmly

Every day was his chance to begin anew, to try to right his wrongs

And that allowed him to find peace with himself every night as he went to sleep

Ready to celebrate a new chance, a new resolution, every day.  That was worth celebrating

Bury (an acrostic poem)

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Beneath the soil, we planted our elders

Under the shade of the spruce and maple, it

Rooted our community in history

Yet few ever unearthed this resource, preferring to let the dead sleep.

Motor (an acrostic poem)

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Mary was always on the go.

Oblivious to sleep or the need for food.

The way she pushed herself was amazing to watch.

Of course, she could not keep this up forever.

Really it wasn’t surprising when she crashed and burned.