Beneath the bed a garden sits and waits
Smooth the sheets, my head upon the pillow
Asleep am I until the chaos breaks
Carrots clawed by digging armadillo
Nightmare screams from radishes upended
Oh, Stevenson! Upon this counterpane,
Your childhood verses here would be splendid,
Like lamplights bright, their shine my creature’s bane –
This naked-tailed, nine-banded coot, it prys
Into my dreams, their scenes. It’s loose! Good lord!
The chase is on! And deep and deeper tries
To run, to sleep’s deep source, to nighttime’s hoard.
‘Till dawn awakes me back in bed, my heart
Now still, my dread relieved from night’s dark art.
qbit 
Ah, and you said you didn’t…! Awesome response. Very well done! I was being facetious when I said you’re next; but you came more than up to the task. I hope you’re going to do the challenge.
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Yes, have to now! I realize I grabbed your line at the end of the 2nd stanza. Didn’t mean to plagerize.
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Well, sir. I shall just have to hand you back your essay. You may re-accomplish it for half-credit. No worries! 🙂
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Nice! I fixed it now. Half credit better than none!
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Ok, so I love baseball and in the world of the diamond, when someone says about a player that ‘He is a Baseball Player’, they are not being obvious and stupid. You likely know exactly what I’m talking about (Yankees / Mets). So, may I just say, that YOU, my friend, are a Poet.
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Well thank you ever so much! I really appreciate that.
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