Restless Night
The hour’s late, and I can’t sleep.
My mind rebels at counting sheep.
Sweet dreams are very far away,
and worries surface from the deep.
I lie awake and wait for day.
I close my eyes and try to pray.
If all my faith is spent and lost,
how will I keep my fears at bay?
I wish that I had known the cost
of squandered youth and friendships tossed.
Though wisdom oft is error’s gain,
regret may soon my soul exhaust.
But now against my windowpane
the tap, tap, tap of gentle rain,
a gift to calm my fretful brain.
I’ll soon drift off to sleep again.
1/4/2022
Copyright © P.S. Awtry | Year Posted 2022
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