Let Sleeping Poets Lie

Sundays are a good day for rest, kicking back, spending time with family. In reasonable laid-back fashion, we observe the twenty-first day of National Poetry Month 2024 today. It’s nice to have one day a week for relaxation … and that’s what we’ve done.

The standing joke is Sunday’s the best day to get a good nap … in church during the sermon! It’s always a temptation, I admit. Especially when Saturday night wasn’t a good night for sleep. My Apple Watch Health app mocks me, providing a daily report of how much sleep I logged. When the orange bars are more prevalent than the blues and teals, I know I’ve been tossing and turning.

Last night was one of those nights. After my Beloved and I watched a movie (a mystery but not terribly intense and maybe even a little predictable), I went to bed before ten p.m. I sat for a short period of time reading a book on my digital device. Then I turned out the light, presumably to doze off quickly.

Image by 16871531 from Pixabay

No dozing … just tossing and turning … pulling the digital device out to read more. This routine doesn’t happen every night, but it can be bothersome when it occurs.

Usually, I don’t get out of bed. By propping up my head on a pillow, I figure my posture is more likely to encourage tiredness.

Sometimes, I write and the sonnet below is a product of one late night/early morning can’t-get-to-sleep struggle. If I’m awake at night, I’m reminded of the Old Testament tale when a boy named Samuel (First Samuel 3) woke in the night. God is the one who wakes the boy and calls him by name. But in case there are any doubts, please be assured this sonnet was written in a spirit of lightheartedness, as I would never presume to instruct God what He can or cannot do!

The Two A.M. Call, a sonnet

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