Who hath not known a summer's eve
When counting sheep and chirping crickets numberless,
That sleep seems far off, as does reprieve,
From the sticky, sleepsack restlessness?
Then with one hand, I find my love
Wrapped up in fleece with an orange hue.
Now hasten away discomfort! Here comes rest.
I hold my Lovey close, then out and above.
Next to my cheek, to be certain and true
Peace ensues, like a babe against a mother's breast.
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