Early To Bed
'Early to bed and early to rise'
by R.S. Evans
The morning alarm came as no great suprirse;
Its regular beeps allaying my fears,
its unchanging tones, music to my ears.
For many a month I'd awoke at this hour;
leaping from bed, standing tall as a tower.
It invoked neither dread nor forlorn
starting my schedule way before dawn.
The shackles of bed had been lain to the side.
The time on the clockface filled me with pride.
From the streets not a whisper, not even a creep,
as the rest of the world was still fast asleep.
'Poor fools' thought I, for free of haste
they do not realise the time they waste!
These twilight hours so crisp and pure,
they are a pleasure to endure.
But one night I had trouble dozing off
for I had in my chest the most challenging cough.
The more I held in the worse it became,
but I managed to get to sleep all the same.
But I awoke again halfway through night;
my throat was weezy, my lungs were tight.
I lay there in impotent despair:
I was neither here nor there.
For the next few hours, I am unsure,
whether I managed to dream or snore.
All that I know is that I was in bed,
with a dizzy fatigue running through my head.
'BEEP BEEP BEEP' went the manic alarm!
I raised my finger and lifted my arm.
'Off! ' I gasped. It would not stop.
My weary eyes began to drop.
For a moment the noises stopped.
I sighed, then smiled, and off I dropped
back to sleep, that dull sensation,
the alarm having halted its vibration.
'BEEP BEEP BEEP' there it goes once more!
The numbers now read five past four.
'No, let me rest! ', I screamed inside.
I turned away, as if to hide.
In desperation I closed my eyes
to find some sort of compromise.
Yet all I heard were the fanatical cries:
'Early to bed and early to rise! '