Stress exudes a phantom song that plays,
A lilting tune – despite the moon – keeps slumber far away.
Although it’s time to shut my eyes and put my mind at ease,
I lay awake – and sleep forsake – because these rhymes do tease.
It must abate,
I cannot wait!
These maudlin lines must cease!
Alas! I find my words do bind, And I shall find no peace.
My faithful Dim – a cat, no hat –
Has dropped upon my chest,
His sonorous purrs and warm soft fur may yet persuade my rest…