Five Minutes Before Morning
Five minutes before morning shouted the sandman.
My time is almost up for you.
The dust in my bag is just about gone.
Your eyes look bought and sold he said.
I will leave my calling card when you need it.
There are others like you waiting for me and I must go.
Five minutes before morning he said again, looking amused.
His words are like soft music for weary minds.
Only a few know his true voice when he calls.
Before long he's gone back into the dreams of children.
Chuckling with a twinkle in his eyes, he laughs again at me.
The sun is yawning and rising ever so slowly.
Laughing aloud he flies for others needs.
Shouting one last time at me.
Five minutes before morning.