National Shakespeare Day - 23rd April

Where weary souls seek solace in the night,

Sleep, that sweet balm to soothe the troubled mind,

Doth bid thee rest and leave thy cares behind.

When Phoebus, with his fiery chariot, fades,

And Luna doth ascend o'er verdant glades,

The world in quietude begins to steep,

As mortals seek their tryst with tranquil sleep.

Oh, sleep, thou gentle harbinger of peace,

Whose touch doth bid life's turmoils to cease,

Thy silken strands enfold the troubled brow,

And smooth the creases that do haunt us now.

In slumber's tender embrace, we find release,

From toilsome tasks that make our worries increase,

The burdens of the day now laid to rest,

As consciousness departs on fleeting quest.

Mysterious realm where fantasy holds sway,

Where reality and illusion oft' may stray,

In sleep, the mind unfurls its hidden wings,

And soars through realms where wondrous fancy sings.

Yet, sleep, thou art a fickle, fleeting sprite,

For some, elusive in the darkest night,

The insomniac, with eyes wide and clear,

Doth yearn for thy embrace, but finds thee near.

What dreams may come when sleep's veil descends?

Visions of joy or dread that fate portends?

The secrets of the subconscious unfold,

In dreams, a tapestry of tales untold.

But hark! Beware the treacherous nightmare's call,

That doth upon the slumbering spirit fall,

Where shadows lurk and phantoms hauntingly,

Disturb the peaceful rest with agony.

Oh, sleep, thou art the healer of the soul,

Thy tender touch doth make the wounded whole,

In thy embrace, the weary find their ease,

And wake refreshed, prepared once more to seize.

So let us cherish thy embrace each night,

And welcome thee, fair sleep, with fond delight,

For in thy arms, we find the strength to cope,

To face the trials of life with newfound hope.

When day's bright orb ascends o'er eastern skies,

And slumbering souls awaken with sunrise,

We thank thee, sleep, for thy serene repose,

That grants us respite from our earthly woes.