I lie on my back

staring up at the ceiling

It happens again

that familiar feeling

I try the old methods

I’m counting my sheep

But none of them manage

To send me to sleep

I shut my eyes tighter

But open my mind

and keeping me conscious 

Are the tings which I find

Memories and theories

Old plans and schemes

when all i am seeking

Is the refuge of dreams

A dog barks outside

Or inside my head

the sound has made sure

That the sandman has fled

I won’t waste this time

that I did not request

So I’ll use this brain

Which refuses to rest

All my times tables

Alphabet in reverse

and I start to get desperate

As the clock makes things worse

I long for escape

a visit to snoredom

Instead I am here

Drowning in boredom

I glance at the time

It’s already next morning

I’m up in an hour

the day’s almost dawning

And I’m still here yawning…

[Paul Avis, ‘Windows of the Soul’, 1997]