After R L Stevenson
Faster than fairies, faster than witches
I feel the hours are flying by.
Whenever the moon and stars are set
I know that sleep will be coming to me.
A good book is all I really need
to forget the end of a tiring day.
Engrossed, ensconced, I stroke
the spine of my latest squeeze
turn each page with a measure
of glee. I shall fall asleep
whatever the plot and, as often as not,
continue the story well into my dreams.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Sue
Wallace-Shaddad would be pleased to hear them.