Late night delusions

when i find it hard to fall asleep, i think of love
like when i used to count sheeps
or goats.

in my head images
come alive. love.


decades ago when
the scoutmaster said
i should keep it shut
my mouth, i did for several years
singing when walking towards home
or when the rain's spatter silences
my voice. an act of love
by mother herself, forcing me
locking me in a karaoke room
with mic, my enemy
more so the notes when words turn blue.

then to writing i took
unsung melodies only my head
understands anyway.

(to be cont.)