01-30-2007, 09:41 PM | #1 |
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Unnamed sonnet 1
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.
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