The Cure

[Gerry]

Trying to sleep, restless and on a knife's edge
The sawing sounds spark your brain into life
You twist and turn struggling to quieten the noise
An elbow here and nudge there
But still the sawing goes on, cutting into your head
Your fight to block it out but even ear plugs fail
But now I've found the cure
It's not to be found in a chemist's shop
Or some magic potion bought on Ebay
The cure was in your head all along
Ask the next incoming sawing sound rises
Visualise a wave coming onto the beach
Then as they exhale you can see the wave
This time it fizzles out and returns to the sea
Rather than dreading every snore,
You can't wait for the next and the next
You long for the sound of these waves of air
You want these waves to crash on your beach
There is nothing as soothing as to listen to waves
How lucky are you to have your very own wave machine

By Gerry Temple