A One Minute Rhyme For Which The Title Took Longer Than The Poem

it’s approaching the eleventh hour
though in fact it’s five past two
I had to wake and write some lines
as I lie soft next to you
the only light to guide me
is the darkness all around
and the silence that is deafening
is the loudest late night sound
and so I take up an imagined pen
and write words in the air
and look into the blackness
at the thoughts left hanging there
then just when I think I’ve cleared my mind
without need of counting sheep
I wonder is my glass half awake?
or is it half asleep ?

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