A brief meditation on Macbeth’s predicament, following a reading of a book review on ‘Why We Sleep’ by Matthew Walker (Pub. Allen Lane) – December 2017 …
‘Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath, Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, Chief nourisher in life’s feast.’ Macbeth: Act 2, Scene 2,
‘Methought I heard a voice cry “Sleep no more… Macbeth does murder sleep! – – The innocent sleep.” ‘ Macbeth: Act 2, scene 2.
ON SLEEP
Sleep, being dead
What life is left to live
But one unfitted to the name
Rest denied is constant woe
No respite from dread
No safe house from fear
Unnourished now
What hope can ever be
Even contrition
Affording no escape
Confession no solace
Macbeth’s endowment
To the innocent
But afflicted soul
Roland's Ragbag 
Sounds an interesting book Roland and a good poetic take interwoven with Shakespeare. Sleep can sometimes be a troubled place, but also a great place for poetry.
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I agree about the poetry. I often find that some of my best ideas are found there or in that half-awake state when ideas from time to time appear seemingly without reason. Thanks for commenting, Davy.
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Superb poem, Roland. Sleep is necessary to rest the soul and renew our senses. I agree with Davy, sleep is a great place for poetry.
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Many thanks for your perceptive comments, Eugenia
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