Now sleepily I lie, and wearily, drearily sigh

With heavy eyelids, breaths, and limbs I dream.

I’m floating down the Thames upon a stream

of boats—But hark! Is that? A baby’s cry.

Oh no! I sigh and moan and grip

The bedsheets up around my head.

I really want to stay in bed,

But out I tumble—up!—and trip

Into pajamas waiting there,

Beside the bed, upon the chair,

Where in the dark no need to see

Have I, for it is certainty

That I’m on call each night to feed

My baby girl. I’m all she needs.

2 thoughts on “Midnight Sonnetesque

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