Wringing out all
forty-four winks of sleep –
the twisted rag of night
leaves wrinkled sheets
damp with sweat.
Carrier pigeons of dreams
in full retreat
back across the Channel,
messages in invisible ink –
I misread “blessings”
which means “wounded”
in Napoleon’s French.
For dVerse Quadrille
qbit 
A night like that is not a blessing…
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LOLOL!
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Oh, my. Stunning, Sir.
Oh, to have written this:
“the twisted rag of night
leaves wrinkled sheets”
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Thank you so much!
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This is a night of torture.
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“Carrier pigeons of dreams” takes me there…
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I like this one, the way it’s jointed in the middle, from tormented sleep to dreams.
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Dreams so dark of war, of aborted peace, a wink into the past as pigeons fly cross Channel as ambassadors, as messengers, but shot down, destroyed with peace dropped from their talons.
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Amazing imagery in this poem! I especially love the ‘Carrier pigeons of dreams’ and the idea of the misread “blessings” in Napoleon’s French..
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Creative use of this prompt. Love the reference to blessé
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This sounds like my insomnia…
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Seems like a nightmare. Specially admiring this part:
the twisted rag of night
leaves wrinkled sheets
damp with sweat.
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Nice association of “blessings” and “wounded”.
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Really good. The physicality of restlessness, the dream logic.
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all forty four winks of sleep was such a good play of words with the quadrille and wink – wicked good!
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Sounds like my night
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LOLOL!
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This sounds like restlessness or perhaps insomnia. Powerful write 🙂
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The twisted rag of night…… love your eloquence!
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“Wringing out 44 winks of sleep” – great line, q!
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Hi qbit! I enjoyed reading your poem here. Well written, and engaging… but damn, what a miserable night, but I can relate to a crumpled morning… 🙂
…rob from Image & Verse
My “wink”
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LOLOL! Thanks!
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