I’m in here ‘cos my silly heart has a tendency to plug.

It’s probably just sawdust falling down from up above.

They treat us well and coddle us but the hardest part of all is

trying to sleep through mating calls of the Race Rocks Sea Lion Corps.

It’s not their fault they rumble in a vibrant sort of way.

And I’m sure they would be mortified to think of building sway.

But try as hard as ever, with pills that tumble down,

it’s hard to rest an ailing heart to a Sea Lions mating call.

The nurses, bless them, minister to those of us who stare

at empty walls and curtain draws, as try to sleep we fail.

But if I have my druthers these waking hours I’ll spend,

in writing silly poems to the awful sound of them!

 
 
David Garlick, Victoria., April 1986