When I Say Sleep, and You Sleep



When I say sleep, and as you sleep 
and you keep, as I stare at the sheep 

That line the barefoot parchment linen -- 
I go down to sleep,  though none is given. 

I go back to watching small sheep jump 
over imagined frosted hills, and then Thump! 

You roll out of the bed, your eyes white 
over, your back arches, with fingers tight 

In a form of claw, though I am quick -- 
not fast enough for the pen trick. 

I stand there in my dreamy stance, 
you move, helpless in a quiver dance -- 

As you slow to a freeze, and I stay 
by you, lay over my coat, as a ray 

of light peaks over the first mountain, 
the dawn has come, you blink, with no refrain. 

I gently help you back apon your feet, 
you walk out of the door, as I take a seat 

My breakfast will go cold, as I sleep 
In that cold chair, before woken by sheep. 

Travel Light

I have no torch to bare as I travel light. 
That weight won't keep me here, or there. 
I will not run, I will not fight, 
I always travel light, 
and when it's dark 
in your darkest night. 
Let me be your travel light. 

I have more room on this road tonight. 
Don't wait right here, we're going there. 
I will not run, I will not fight, 
I always travel light, 
and when it's dark 
in your darkest night. 
Let me be your travel light. 

Hail, hail the dogs of snow!

Hail, hail the dogs of snow! 
The furious mess of them! 
Hi, ho away they go! 

Digging bones again for them! 
Tails, like sails above the drifts 
the sniff of sniffers says, "ahem!" 

And jump off sheepish cliffs, 
Into the wading furs of cold 
And bring up bones as gifts. 

"Leave them there!" you scold, 
And hit them on the nose, to show 
That it pays not to be so bold! 

Hail, hail the dogs of snow, 
The furious mess of them! 
Hi, ho away they go...