Sleep Beckons



Part of my 100 days of poetry project, a poem about sleep and dreams, and the truth about love.

Sleep beckons to me

with candied whispers

of dreams so sweet,

Not of sugarplums or fairies

or kisses under the mistletoe,

Not in this Texan

near May heat.


Instead he tempts me

with visions of love,

loyal and true,

Not like the charlatans of old

hawking their fairytales and snake oils,

But something special,

sweet, and new.


Tired though I may feel,

Still a dream I know

it has to be,

For men no longer wish for love,

preferring luscious and swaying hips

To intellect and



And yet he beckons.

His gentle touch soothes

my weary mind,

Removing more than just my clothes,

Sleep delivers me of all my doubt

So I may leave the

day behind.

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