© 2016 Barbara Grace Lake


And now I lay me down to sleep,
My raucous bell to ring at dawn
For leeway still to read the news,
Attend to all the things I’d choose
To miss except for habit’s keep.
I pray for God my soul to keep
While heavy lids are downward drawn,
One last unseen escaping yawn,
Ere daily strife to Morpheus lose.

And if I die before I wake,
My prayer as life by rote avow,
I rise and dress and eat and toil
From unknown challenges recoil,
In mind alone will fancy take.
I pray for God my soul to take,
All worldly trappings disavow
In hope a flensing stroke somehow
Will strip the stains of sterile soil.