When I can't sleep, I like to fly. That's right, I said fly. I stretch my legs, sticking my toes out from under the duvet, reach out my arms like wings, and pretend to be a plane. My wife's my co-pilot. She provides the engine noises. Every single night!
There are nights Those warm summer nights Sunset’s slipped Moon’s waking Cicadas serenading When we know, just know
there’s a twilight unfolding betwixt and between subtlest grey shades and grim hues as if in a dream eyes closed but still there’s no sleep (Image courtesy of MataHari7 on deviantart.com)