When sleep like stealthy thief
escapes into the night,
breathing the darkness deeply
like bird in restles flight
to roam beneath the stars
or moon, or absence of all light
chasing memories and hopes
in endless roundelay
the little worries of the coming day
Where does sleep hide
when she departs
why forsakes us in our need?
Oh fickle lady of the night
to come and shackle us by day
inopportunely shutting down
our senses in a busy town
with traffic roaring all around
and nowhere to be safely still
while she exerts her wayward will.
