Uh, oh! She's been writing poetry!

Yep.  I must be feeling better.  I've been sleeping really well for a while now but last night I had a hard time drifting off and gave a big think to all those long, sleepless nights.  Then I dashed off a non-rhyming version of this and slept immediately.  When I woke up, my brain had neatly arranged it to rhyme while I slept.  Enjoy. 

Night has always been her enemy, 

When constant, soothing motion is forbid.

Her head mines the breadth of her pillow

As if that's where her precious sleep were hid.

She tosses so regular, and

Turns with such state!

So pendulously tolls, "It's 

Late, it's late, it's late!"

She calls it restfullness and prays

To God in imperious tones, "Thou wilt

Give me peace and respite."  Meanwhile

Her thoughts sift deep around her, fretful silt.

In the end, she sleeps, or doesn't.  Either way

The sun and she both rise and greet the day.