Flying on empty.

Sleeping On The Job.

To my myriad (?) of patient readers, I profusely apologise
I’ve been busy flying the nowadays not too friendly skies,
The travel has been overlong and free time has been short,
And amongst the baggage is a case of insomnia I never thought I’d brought.

I’d long hoped those long dark nights were in the past.

So my scattered thoughts are all up in the air,
Countries, Customs, I declare I don’t know if I’m here or there,
Mid the flurry of of passport stamping I prayed to the One above;
‘God speed me through the quickest queue, spare me the rubber glove.’

Once they spared my blushes my relief was unsurpassed.

This last week should prove the most wearying of our travails,
Settled in to our home away from home I aim to share some tales,
But it’s to a timeless sleep-is-fleeting twilight zone I remain consigned,
Arising at dawn, dead tired, in a zombie state of mind.

At breakfast my better half saw me moody and downcast.

Oh, how long I scoffed and how loud I laughed,
When my sweet spouse suggested a sleeping draught,
She suggested half a bottle of Drambuie,Bonny Scotland’s best
That night I slipped a slug of Christmas spirit in my egg-nog- and then, the rest.

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