Enter Sandman

There was a guy who weighted my eye
one time when the thing was to play.
For in the eye he would pour lots of sand;
enter the sandman that day.

I would hear Mom, forthrightly and calm,
assert that he had much to say.
Power of sleep being at his command;
enter the Sandman to stay.

I was naive and so I believed
in Santa and even his sleigh.
Therefore to usher me off to dreamland,
Sandman belief was okay.

Sandman relied on eyes open wide
so sand grains would not ricochet.
I would attempt to keep a wakeful stand,
yet I would soon hit the hay.

As time progressed beliefs were undressed
and seen as a bony array.
Sleep a circadian rhythmical band--
Sandman belief put away.

Time has now gained and aging is plain,
my hair a lot thinner and gray.
Nature makes clear by its gentle demand,
age is a Sandman mainstay.

24 Lines [Rhythm: 9-8-10-7]
Writer’s Cramp
May 3, 2014