The Crack of Dawn

In the silence of four AM

When thoughts are but the only sound,

And would I could silence them,

Till sleep again it could be found

But here I am counting sheep,

Wide awake and most unfair;

My kingdom for a bit of sleep

As at the ceiling so I stare.

Thoughts a plenty oh my god

To a crescendo they can build;

Thoughts a plenty you sorry sod,

This head of mine won't be stilled.

A glass of milk a book to read

And so it is I carry on;

In the silence, yes indeed,

I hear the cracking of the dawn.