Thursday Morning, 3 A.M.

I love this place I spend each night,
Each painting in its frame;
Five lamps that blaze a fearsome light
Put moon and stars to shame.

I love as well this well-used bed,
As well its well-used springs,
The racks of books about my head,
A little box that sings.

But I should love it better still,
This treasure trove I keep,
Could I, by simple act of will,
Set all aside… and sleep.

– The Yellow Doggerelist

(November 1998)

Copyright © 1998 Stephen S. Bates

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