3am in the morning and i am yawning my bed is calling and I am sprawling,
the lark starts the chorus off. birds tweet, tweet then there are sheep that bleat, the woodpecker too and the bark of the fox and a badger or two.
Off to bed on my weary legs after I have drank down my coffee dregs. I rest my head in sot white pillows, what’s in my head no one knows.
I feel warm down to my toes and even my nose dips under the bed clothes. into sleep very deep and not a peep do I make for no one else do I want to wake.
Cats and dogs and birds and rain what a din they make again. I wake very late and pontificate about the merits of staying up late.
Rhythm of the Ink 