Roused from slumber by echoes afar,
Heavy eyes traverse night’s cold embrace.
Beneath a blanket of long-dead stars,
Drifting along tides’ gentle grace.
A craft embarks upon Neptune’s realm,
Ever onward it sails,
Through dreams’ vast expanse,
In moonlight’s soft dance,
Steadfast, sleep prevails.
Written in response to Punam’s prompt over at dVerse Poet’s Pub: Quadrille #196 – Let’s have a Slumber Party! “The challenge tonight is to write a quadrille of exactly forty-four words including the word “Slumber” or any variation of it….”
The Truth About Tigers 
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