I’d slumbered all the night-time
and soon the bell would ring
when with a stab I was awoken,
awoken by a spring.
A spring had pierced the mattress
sometime when I was sleeping
and now where just soft sheets had been
a sharpened point was peeping.
Well this was a catastrophe!
Now, I’m not an early riser,
but I didn’t sleep again that morning
nor that evening either.
In fact a week of wide-eyed nights
I spent thanks to that spring.
I’d toss and turn and tumble
but, yow!…It stuck right in.
I’d been prod one too many times,
something had to be done,
so I flipped the mattress over,
I thought the spring was gone.
No luck, not a night had passed,
(this spring was not for turning)
it wriggled through; by 6am
my, oochyabugs!…was burning.
Next, more drastic action,
I gave that spring the hump.
Seven layers of gaffa tape;
the spike became a lump.
But a lump can spike I quickly learnt,
so bear in mind their feelings,
I didn’t and had all night to pay,
staring at the ceiling.
But as I lay there staring,
I wondered still if we
couldn’t all sleep here together,
this bed, the spring and me.
And in fact with some persistence,
and a well placed pillow case,
that spring and I, we came to lie,
for weeks at once at peace.
Some time ago it all seems now;
the Summer’s come and gone,
and where was spring is Autumn,
where was a spike is none.
I rest at ease on mattress soft,
though strange and with new covers,
I wake sometimes and still I think,
I’m lying on the other.
But no, I shift and shuffle, slide,
I still can’t feel a thing,
I look up to the ceiling
and long for the spring.