A poem about my daughter’s sleepless weekend...

I won’t go to sleep, she told me
While the water is still at the door
It’ll creep upstairs to my little bed
And steal me away while I snore
I’ll float past lampposts and chimneys
On my warm little bed soft and pink
Stolen as if by the pixies
And if I roll over I’ll sink
Me and my dolly we’ll leave you
Swept away, we’ll be gone for good
And my teacher she’ll never believe you
When I don’t show for class like I should
So I won’t be sleeping tonight dad
You know I’m not ready to go
But the part that makes my heart sad, dad
Is I don’t even think that you’d know.