two o' ten in the morning and i can't sleep a wink.
your breathing is like clockwork and i can't help but think
you think of it all,
you speak of it all.
but when it comes to me,
and the smiles i'm not supposed to see,
you enunciate like you knew i would be,
awake, listening to you dream.
you started with fur coats
and led to tv.
you said something about daffodils,
and a few things about me.
you said, "i know you are the one that i love."
i'm talking in my sleep,
but it's hard to get a word in,
for being out like a light,
in the dark of the night,
you still have wit at the drop of a pin.
so i'll just roll over and get more cozy,
for your sleep serenading, and dream crusading,
it is really to much to start getting nosey.
sleep well my night poet,
you mumbler of odd things,
i'll see you in the morning,
you'll see me in your dreams.