There's an oasis on the other side of the room.
My parched mouth yearns for it.
It is just beyond reach.
The more I acknowledge it's existence
The drier my mouth becomes;
The quicker my salivary well retreats.
But at this hour,
The tiny warden forbids my partaking
in activities that should end such suffering.
He requires stillness to enable slumber.
Patiently
I wait the surrender of weary infant eyes.
The moment they do succumb
I shall leap from this bedside incarceration;
Seize that cup in desperate hand
And gulp down a torrent of cool liquid relief,
Sounding my liberated pleasure
With a deep and satisfying AHHHHHHHHH!
I hope I don't wake the warden.
© Strauss 2010