Friday, October 3, 2014

Sleepless in ......... Musical Montana

So, I'm playing the music for Young Frankenstein the Musical. My town has a little playhouse, and volunteers go to be actors, stagehands, directors, musicians, costume people, etc., etc., etc.

And guess who got roped into "volunteering"?  

That's right...I did.

Let's just say that by the time I get back from practice, ready myself for slumber, and say goodnight to Mom and Dad, it's WAY past my bedtime. I'm not complaining. It's great fun, this musical. But it does result in late evenings and the music is like caffeine for me.

Now I know why no one drinks coffee at 9:00 p.m.

Anyway, while I lay in bed trying valiantly to turn my brain off, I usually get some pretty good poetry/writing inspiration. This is what I came up with last night, as I was trying to...well...catch sleep.

Ironic, isn't it? That one would write a poem about catching sleep while they were trying to catch........never mind. I'll just give you the poem.


     Catching Sleep

     Darkness fills the air.
     I create a cocoon around me
     with blankets
     and burrow my face in the hollow.
     I breath hot air and
     wait for sleep to take me
     for a walk
     like it does every night.

     It sits there,
     but whenever I reach out
     to take it, it
     And I am left
     with nought
     but a handful of darkness.

     I reach for it again,
     but it dances away
     and perches on the
     branch of a memory.
     I crash into it,
     wanting so badly for sleep
     that I've lost
     all coordination.

     But still sleep eludes me.
     Always just beyond my grasp,
     blending with shadows,
     waiting for me to catch it.
     My mind spins circles.
     It only wants rest.
     Just when I collapse into
     that void

     sleep pounces.

     And it catches me.

     I must remember that.

     To sleep, one must be
     because sleep is a huntress,
     waiting for the next exhausted soul
     to sleep.

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