A Plea To Sleep From The Sleepless Poem by Richard Blanch

To Lord Hypnos



Sleep, please drift across the sky, come with the cloudy evening, come softly, weep
With the sweet dew, seep into my poor grinding brain, counting these silly sheep
Hopelessly, finding flocks rioting, rampaging endlessly across deep
Drynesses. Or come swiftly, Leap over deserts, rush me before I know, reap
The harvest of my consciousness, muffle and blanket the constant bleep, bleep
Of awareness even if you keep me yours for hours, for a day, for a week,
Even if you come uncomforting, blowing, drizzling, raining, snowing, sleeting,
Hailing me across dim dark borderlands. Or stroke and seduce me, touch me, feel
My tenderness with your fumbling fingers, steep me in soporific sleaze
Roll me in warm sheets, in strange fragrances, oils, do with me desperate things, deeds
Unspeakably, gaudily outrageous, as long as they exhaust all greed,
All desires, all seeking. As long as they meet and breed a host of feathered dreams,
As long as they take the feverish membranes of my mind and sleekly lead
Me slumbrous and heavy lidded, to your side; comfort me, tease and seize me
Fondle, clasp, squeeze me freely, easily - oh Hypnos come and answer my need!