The Watcher

The change in his habits was hard to define,

He thought, getting older, had shortened his time,

Less time to waste sleeping, for rest or respite,

From eight hours to six hours, to four hours at night.

 

He’d sit up late working, and not watch the clock

At midnight he’d vaguely hear something tick-tock,

But still would sit up with his eyes full of rue

And not get to bed until one, maybe two.

 

Awake before dawn he would feel some relief,

That death had not squandered his life in his sleep,

And though he was tiring, he wouldn’t give in,

Began to see sleeping as some kind of sin.

 

Then down to an hour, and then to a half

He ended up napping short time by the hearth,

Five minutes would pass, he’d be fully awake

When under his chair he would feel the earth quake.

 

And when his eyes opened and looked to the skies

He’d see giant gimbals above the sunrise,

That held the earth spinning in place like a top

A gyroscope, seeming it never would stop.

 

Then in the dark hours when all were asleep,

He’d see all the monsters come out for a peep,

Come out from their hidings in forest and glen

Whenever they hadn’t to fear meeting men.

 

They’d play in the shallows, they’d play in the streams,

They’d dash in and out of the sleeping mens dreams,

They’d laugh and they’d frolic up high in the trees,

And wave in the branches with every slight breeze.

 

And sometimes they’d argue, and sometimes they’d fight,

Hip-hopping from one to the other all night,

They’d not see the watcher, awake in his den

For monsters see horrors in all kinds of men.

 

The world would return to the way it had been

Before men came begging, and made it unclean,

With meadows and grotto’s and magical spells,

And hedgerows and sedge rows and woods of bluebells.

 

He sat there in wonder, and watched the full flight

Of worlds unimagined that came out each night,

And suddenly death was the least he would fear

If death would come dreaming and carry him here.

 

The watcher relaxed and he fell sound asleep

He slept for eight hours with never a peep,

And when he awoke with the rise of the sun,

He wept in his sorrow, what sleep had undone.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Barbz]

It's always been said , that when sleep's in your head, it might be hard to think clearly. But this story tells, that a mind could be keen and used in a manner austerely. The lack of this need may call for your eyes to conjure up magical tales, taking you places not seen before, while hoping your heart never fails. A little sleep here, a nap or two there might just be the answer for some, while eight hour sleep, not hearing a peep, might stifle the beat of your drum. You are a Genius Sir David....it's become a daily pleasure reading you,,,,,,,and you never fail us... Barbz

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

a delicate momentum that catches one off guard, well done, it's a rarity for me!

[Marie]

Sleep deprivation is known to cause visions, and evidently this man was having some. However, he coldn't have stayed awake forever. He had to wake from his wakig dreas.

Incidentally, I have read acouple of books (fiction) about men whose sleep centers had somehow been damaged, and they did not sleep, at least not in the ordinary way.

[R Smith]

David you are as they say 'on a roll' an astoundingly great poem, perfect rhyme and flow and the story is a true work of art, the whole thing is amazing and one of your best but i won't be staying awake its to much effort lol, thanks for a truly great read :)

[Valentine]

This write sets the mind to thinking about not getting enough sleep and the harm that causes on the mind and the body. I think it might have been fascinating to of had all of the visions he had. Sometimes dreams are happier than real life. Another great write..Kathie

[roarke]

Thats a tough one to put a last stanza on, but you laid a heavy one down. The longest I've been awake was 72 hrs, barely a fifteen minute doze here or there. That's when I started habitually drinking coffee. Sometimes I too believe sleep keeps me from things I'm anxious to do. I can relate to this piece. A slightly different meter than your usual isn't it David? Man I'd like to tap into some of the ideas you are writing lately. Great stuff.

[Vishuddha]

I might have to sleep on this.
They do say sleep deprivation will throw you into a psychedelic frenzy. This poem does the job. It seems dreams will come one way or another. I have many, night and day. I live in a virgin Florida forest and am well acquainted with the delightful monsters who live therein, which you delightfully describe. The line between day and daydream sometimes blurs. I am so grateful for the gift of imagination. Bet you are too.

[MomzillaNC]

Sleep deprivation can lead to some really trippy imaginings. But, sooner or later, the physical need to sleep overcomes all our resistance. In the mean time, keep pen to paper! Loved this one -- love all your works. Is it, perchance, a peek at one of the sources of your vast wealth of inspiration?

[Beccy]

Such a pleasure to read. The pace is just perfect, as is the gentle waving of the rhyme.

Maybe if we wish hard enough and dream for long enough, the world will return to the way it was.

Beccy.

[Einstein Noodle]

beautiful! hooked me straight away as i recognize those sleep changes .. with the exception that i usually take a divine nap mid-afternoon ... go to be by 10pm and get up before 4 am ... many times 1 or 2 am .. and the monsters do frolic ...
especially enjoyed the closing twist ..
E.