Late at Night

Late one night while I lay sleeping,
Nightmares born from dreams come creeping.
Fraught with fright, I find I'm leaping
into darkness, deep and damp.

Could it be just the wind howling,
or perhaps a black cat meowing,
or some ordinary terror scowling,
for though awake, now where's my lamp?

Bewitched blankets mummify me.
Haunted footsteps soon defy me.
Though scared, the night cannot deny me
revenge upon the midnight hour.

Who dared disturb my peaceful dreaming,
where I lay plotting, planning, scheming?
Pristine and pure thoughts redeeming,
once innocent, have all turned sour.

Back into my soft bed turning,
though the darkness now is burning,
my emotions mixed and churning.
Peaceful dreams are what I seek.

But I find that sleep alludes me,
and the Sandman, he excludes me,
and the nightmare, it precludes me,
gallops into dark, black, sleek.

Soon I find the dawn is breaking.
No more dreams are for the taking.
The sun's a rising loaf, fresh, baking.
So weary I to greet the day.

I think I'll sleep when it is light,
and guard the gate when it is night,
and leave the nightmares to their plight,
and peaceful dream while others play.