i am pleased to be ranked with the great poets of old;
i can nod with the best of them, even homer i’m told.
i jingle some of my best verse when in the beyond state-
rarely does a poet receive such a gift as his fate!
believe me, snoring has it’s own special rhythmic genius:
it has a duration that changes brilliantly when cursed.
in fact, i do all my best thinking when fast asleep;
my ideas become vast, profound and quite deep!
the dawn’s cold breeze slapped my face, and i woke with a start;
i became confused and stuttered, then gave out a big shout!
why, i had nothing to say- my mind was completely blank!
and i had no one and nothing except myself to thank!
enough! darvish, your snoring has been most entertaining;
but now your sleepwalking has started me complaining!
