
Water bed did not suffice for decent rest, so beachy bed will get sleepy head’s next test.
Instead of waves easing thoughts into counting sheep, there was a queue of agric chickens, each emitting, in order, an angry peep.
Sweetest dreams should have fallen from clearest sky, but, instead, a chutist chose *this* mattress for alighting so they would not die.
Even the sand belied itself as a welcome alt to LEGOed floors during a waking break—for pinching crabs lie in wait here, ready for each toe to take.
Members of a slumber meritocracy try for solutions both budgeted and sound, but rumours persist that Vegas pents provide the best sleep around.
Perhaps bed of home should get another turn. Or, perhaps from nightmare to merry night needs just a few more eves to churn. ; )
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