POETRY FRIDAY Insomniacs unite!

My Parents Think I’m Sleeping
by Jack Prelutsky; illustrated by Yossi Abolafia

I confess to a prejudice against books with a reading level printed on top: I assume its goal is to hone skills rather than tell a gripping story, and nothing kills a love of reading faster than making it a chore.

Fortunately, our country’s very first Children’s Poet Laureate used his spot-on rhymes and infectious humor to create a memorable collection of poems about a sleepless little boy. The publisher gives it a “3,” meaning it can be read alone, presumably under the covers with a flashlight.

I’m an insomniac—I’ve suffered from sleepless bouts most of my life—so I thought I’d share my favorite take on the subject, an excerpt from "I'm Awake! I'm Awake!":

I wiggle, I fidget,
I tumble, I twist,
I pound my poor pillow
with fist after fist,
I stopped counting sheep
when I reached ninety-three.
I’m awake! I’m awake!
I cannot fall asleeeeeeeeeeeeee

Comments

[Elaine Magliaro]

Anne,

It's good to have you back again! I hope you had a relaxing respite from blogging.

FYI: Kelly is doing the Poetry Friday roundup at Big A little a today.

Happy 2007!

[Imani]

I enjoyed that poem so much, thank you for posting it! I'm a bit older than three now but I can still relate to those sleepless tossing-and-turning nights.

[Anne]

Thanks, Elaine! I added my link to the rest.

Imani: Yep, I think insomnia's a universal curse. Thanks.