Unnamed sonnet 1

[bbyt]

Oh, how I love the silence of the deep:
My refuge, sound and holy, known as sleep.
The bandage for my sorrows and my pains,
A source of relaxation for my brains.
This blissful time yields benefits to reap,
But lack of it will make me freely weep,
For when I let my inmost take the reigns,
I gather a euphoric sense of gain.
At night there on the bed on which I snooze,
There is a canine friend with which I doze,
With whom I am compelled to share my cot.
Sometimes we have to tussle for our spots.
But after time has settled down the tone,
We both are peaceful, for sleep is our own.