Sleep has called and still I deny.
With much stupidity I do write.
I long to be witty and clever.
And for this I find my endless endeavor.
Cannot carrot and courts of glass.
Smooth as silk and slicing as spoons.
Bloated and bothered is many a man.
And goats of old hags and ladies' scent
Panting owls do feather the night.
Terror of night and days fright clearer.
For ugliest creature stands in the mirror.
Company is short and laughing much shorter.
Commandments set and love such blather.
What trip does this take and through this can you manage.
And not much to this will be the baggage.
Dismissed and tossed aside for the mind.
And this late night venture does have me counted and timed.
So elephants sleep and giraffes do taunt.
Hyena does chuckle at birds mounted high
Blithe little monkey does bounce
Up and down and town to town
For I am not the walrus
I am the monkey
Watching all the delight in moon light low
And laughing point and stare
Far far fair harried hare
Strut his stuff and snuff the tuffs
Of others sleeping there.

Casual acquaintance  of first
And from first dawning on
Monkeys answers never quench the thirst
Unknown the pictured framed
And bars do blur the view
Wants on and on in lifetime crammed

by: Unheardof
Justin H. Sanderson