The Wick Has Burned Down To The Wax by Dennis Allen Lange

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The hour of weariness – Midnight – attacks.
The yellow flame’s flicker is weak.
The wick, having worked, has burned down to the wax. 

The toil of the day takes its toll and it wracks
The candle and man till life’s bleak.
The hour of weariness – Midnight – attacks. 

The slope of sleep’s soothing sweet tunnel attracts,
Though Day clutches man with its beak.
The wick, having worked, has burned down to the wax. 

The cares of tomorrow add to the mind’s tax.
One wrestles, it seems, for a week.
The hour of weariness – Midnight – attacks. 

Oh! for a pinch to the flame to relax
The light-load; bring rest that we seek!
The wick, having worked, has burned down to the wax. 

The sandman has tried, but his sand supply lacks.
The sheep flock? – the worry wolves wreak.
The hour of weariness – Midnight – attacks.
The wick, having worked, has burned down to the wax.

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photo by Camilla Hviid at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/puzT8WQ/Nothern+Coziness

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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Insomnia by Dennis Allen Lange

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When sheep are clouds and clouds are sheep
…And one lies down at night,
What is it that he counts to sleep
…In failing candlelight?

Does comfort come from clouds that walk,
…Or woolly sheep that fly?
Methinks if clouds or sheep could talk
…They’d tell us who and why.

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photo by Kevin Tuck at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mBZsrUW/Sheep+like+the+clouds

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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Sonnet 41- Treats by Dennis Lange

               Sonnet 41 – Treats

We sometimes lie abed, but cannot sleep.
The Shepherd serving us so oft and well
Has fled the field, defeated, with his sheep,
While we remain in that deserted dell. 

When peace is gone, since worry took its place,
We cling to troubled thoughts of what seems dear,
Those transitory things that we embrace,
Which also wrap us up and draw us near. 

The treasures that we polish, guard to keep,
Are keepers of our souls; they guard the gate
To happiness, so owners cannot reap
For they are busy watching early, late. 

This thief steals sleep and peace by his deceit.
In turn, he will not steal supposed treat.

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

 

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