To curl up on a chair,
And spread out on the floor,
To call a blanket friend,
And freezing cold tiles warm,
To shut the eyes to outer lights,
And half open them to take a look,
At these many ways to find a rest - a sleep and deeply kip.

Sick bed,
Rolls me into an aching burrito,
And the work is left for another day,
Hopefully I can unwrap tomorrow.