Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Bedtime Hush to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
The stars began to yawn one by one across the sky,
And each of them let out a sigh and a twinkle of goodbye.
The Great Bear stretched his glimmering paws and curled his shining head,
And Orion set his belt aside and tumbled into bed.
The Seven Sisters held a hush and let their voices fall,
And the Milky Way unrolled itself as a quilt above us all.
A comet in a nightcap tiptoed past with a silver tail,
Whispering to the planets, sleepy travellers, all hail.
The moon, who was the last to stay, put out her pale lamp too,
And drew the velvet curtain of a blue and dreaming hue.
I watched it all from my window seat with my chin upon my hands,
And felt a yawn come rolling in like waves on golden sands.
If even stars need slumber when the night is nearly done,
Then I can rest my tired head and start again with the sun.
Poet of Bedtime Hush · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
Even the stars get sleepy in this poem. When the whole sky seems to be settling down, going to bed feels natural and not like a defeat.
The stars “began to yawn one by one,” and each “let out a sigh and a twinkle of goodbye.” The Great Bear curls “his shining head,” Orion sets “his belt aside,” the Seven Sisters “held a hush” and the Milky Way “unrolled itself as a quilt above us all.”
A comet in a nightcap “tiptoed past,” and the moon puts out “her pale lamp too.” The speaker watches from a window seat and feels “a yawn come rolling in like waves.” The lesson follows: “If even stars need slumber,” the speaker can also rest “and start again with the sun.”