Sleep

Under the tower of sleep,
I close my eyes.
Letting night creep in,
Through loop-holes in the skies.

As bright shrouds cling,
And twilight makes an end.
Going down into the sea,
Where lullabies are penned.

Where blemishes are hid,
In fantasies to believe.
Where dreams are forever passing,
And moving shadows leave.

Long and silent pathways,
Where soft bells ring.
And far within the distant realms,
Where night birds sing.

While sleep embalms the soul,
And touches it with powers.
To sail among the pillars,
And reach the height of towers.


E.P. 1908 - 1989

Zendoodle by Leslie Miller