TO PASS THE TIME OF NIGHT

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TO PASS THE TIME OF NIGHT

It’s three o’clock in the morning
When most of the world is sleeping
I stare at the moon in the navy sky
While out of the curtains I’m peeping

I draw back the deep red curtains
And fold back the throw on my bed
I plump up the somewhat squashed pillow
Where I’d briefly lain my head

I glide down my stair lift slowly
Trying not to wake my neighbour
I, with my hand on the joystick
Requiring no manual labour

I stumble across the kitchen
To make a hot mug of tea
I’m sneaking like a mouse on wheels
Disabled, I happen to be

By then I wish I’d made coffee
To wake me from lacking slumber
If I shut my eyes, I can still count sheep
So one by one, I number

Shall I go back to bed?
No, it’s already five in the morning
My carers will be here at six
But I hear my bed still calling

I hear the key in the lock
“Good morning”, they call, all cheery
While me with my eyes wide shut
Still sit there looking bleary.