This week let’s write a sleep poem. It could be a lullaby or a lament for lost sleep. Just write something and don’t forget to post it in the comments below before nodding off.
About Bartholomew Barker
Bartholomew Barker is an organizer of Living Poetry, a collection of poets in the Triangle region of North Carolina where he has hosted a monthly feedback workshop for more than decade. His first poetry collection, Wednesday Night Regular, written in and about strip clubs, was published in 2013. His second, Milkshakes and Chilidogs, a chapbook of food inspired poetry was served in 2017. He was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2021. Born and raised in Ohio, studied in Chicago, he worked in Connecticut for nearly twenty years before moving to Hillsborough where he lives and writes poetry.
Living Poetry 
A Lullaby
When the wind blows
The trees grow old
My baby’s in a sleep
All my worries unfold
When the sun rises
The new day begins
My heart’s filled with hope
watching my baby grow
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by Cassa Bassa | May 18, 2020, 8:18 AMVery cute. Thanks for posting!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 18, 2020, 5:46 PMSweetly Done! Love the softness of this.
LikeLike
Posted by Lisa Tomey | May 18, 2020, 8:03 PMThanks Lisa!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Cassa Bassa | May 18, 2020, 8:40 PMI must remember:
do not read or write poetry
before bed.
It is much too stimulating.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Posted by JeanMarie | May 18, 2020, 1:46 PMVery nice! At least your insomnia is productive.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 18, 2020, 5:47 PMGoodness YES! I know this one all too well.
LikeLike
Posted by Lisa Tomey | May 18, 2020, 8:03 PMI walk downtown, past the old pizza shop
along uneven slabs of cement
the cat, with her kitten in her mouth
striding with all four paws off the ground
walking, looking from Kenny, getting the car
4:52 AM, dazzled by the harsh glow of an old LED clock
two more hours
I go back, looking for that cat
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Chris Clarke | May 19, 2020, 9:35 PMOpps. “” aren’t picked up…
walk downtown, past the old pizza shop
along uneven slabs of cement
the cat, with her kitten in her mouth
striding with all four paws off the ground
walking, looking from Kenny, getting the car
(but Kenny died in 1987)
4:52 AM, dazzled by the harsh glow of an old LED clock
two more hours
I go back, looking for that cat
LikeLiked by 1 person
Posted by Chris Clarke | May 19, 2020, 9:38 PMLove the dreaminess of this. Thanks for sharing!
LikeLike
Posted by Bartholomew Barker | May 19, 2020, 9:44 PM