Faye Sizemore


To my bed of rest
… I cannot go
I am as cast from my nest
No sleep can I show

Many times I have tried
but some of my old memories…
they have never died…
moving like the restless breeze

Sleep is a fortress
seeming so sinister
that I cannot enter…
not even by its gate

Stone soldiers
with dead eyes of glass
guard well the gate
and will not bid me pass

A “partner” to the poem, “Night-Demon” – ©Copyright November 1, 2004 by Christina A. Sharik