Monday, 24 August 2009


Sleep, Andrew, sleep:

when climbers inch walls,

we scramble, reach, and act as if

there is no way to fall.


But your smile and strangeness

makes timid people creep

and slide away from heaven

back to a cave of sleep.


You gaze out from windows

wave again, again,

seeking for an answer;

not why or where – but when?!


Crack the boring bubble,

take a dancing bow;

dancing in this moment,

in this now, for now.


Asleep, but never forget

we’re dancing at a Ball:

awake, asleep, you do know

the glory of it all.



  1. What a beautiful celebration of your son's life; innocents asleep always seem to be living in a better space and we love them so much in that repose. You captured your feelings so acutely. Well written. Gay (@beachanny)

  2. I love it ... inspirational acknowledgement of life!

  3. And of course I like this a real neat bit of writing.

  4. Nice poem, but it needs a photo of Andrew.