I woke up today, I’d had ten hours of sleep
A mixture of guilt and satisfaction rolled around 
In my frontal lobe. Yesterday had been
Another tsunami of sights and sounds
So much activity, so much to process
My neurons had scrambled like spooked racehorses 
With a glass of water, I sat still until
I reached in my bag for my bottle of Advil

I finally went to bed, it was 3 am
I had to switch off, I had to get to sleep
I had to be a part of the human condition
I closed my eyes and began counting sheep
I lay in the wakeful throes of identifying
The multicoloured sheep that went flying
Across a rainbow stile that was ten feet high …
Who was I kidding! Wide awake I opened one bright eye

Now when daylight stabs my eyelids with its beams
A cosmic alarm clock to wake up to and be spry
Even as it prods me in the haziness of my dreams
I snooze it three-score times, as I waken by and by 
The Advil and the sheep remain my special twins
One bleats its lullabies, the other stills the din
So I go from day to day and from night to night
Sometimes it’s tumultuous, at others it’s alright