The quality of sleep is not strained
It is not to be had by the strength of will
It will not be cajoled, nor planned with reason
Nor is logic or necessity ever its envoy
A tired body may crave and not have it
The righteous might deserve and not find it
It is a fine thing, fragile and elusive
Its temper is lost with coercion or guile
But if you will have it still and are determined then
Go travel to lands that are not your own
These travels- they could be of a varying kind
Happy or arduous or peaceful, with every manner
Of luxury, bring great pleasure and pleasantness
And still it would not come…
Travel homeward then, unpack the baggage of the journey
Or a lifetime and turn to bed
If then on that day sleep does not afford you her that rare quality
She will have been mean indeed, or you not at home.