"I Will Never Count Sheep"

Last night I lay in bed and had difficulty trying to sleep I allowed my mind to wonder, I would not count sheep I felt myself floating in the air in a time machine And memories of long ago came back, Oh So Pristine The beginning was lightning fast and I could hardly breathe Faces and places shot by, with names that I could not read Then I felt a slow down, through the window I saw a sign The machine had glided to a stop, as my feelings became benign A flashing number caught my eye, that number was sixteen Above the door of a house I knew, where I had many a dream Why was I back here, at the house where I was born? On Lelia Street, in Limerick on this dewy refreshing morn There wasn’t a soul in sight and no sounds that one could hear So I let the beautiful memories interact, before I shed a tear I see myself in bed upstairs, near the window to Lelia Street I listened to the strangest sounds of peoples walking feet I heard a sneeze brought on by a breeze, with the sound of a walking cane Sure it had to be, Bob McConkey who lived next door to the lane Again a sound, metal striking the ground from a boot with a metal heel That was the Doyle’s from Powleen; their boots had heels made of steel There was old Mrs. Shinners from Moore’s lane, just shuffling along her way And the strong beat of Sgt. Byrnes feet, coming home from a very long day Once again I’m inside that time machine and everything is flashing by Thoughts of things forgotten will stay with me, until the day I die It is amazing what the mind can do, how it can take you back in time And I’m thankful to have had this moment to put it into rhyme I never had to go to the window; these sounds always put me to sleep And as long as people wear shoes, I will never, no never count sheep Michael Christopher Daly March 11, 2008