Stanley
is certainly
workmanly
when it comes
to slumbering
naps without numbering
all through the day
twenty or thirty at least I’d say
bonelessly stretched out on the floor in the way
or sprawled
in the hall
apparently comfortable on nothing at all
or semi-recumbent
snoozily redundant
on throws and cushions superabundant
busy
with the Zs
as floppy as you please
but then who needs balance
when inertia’s one of your primary talents?
then rising like he’s doped
and rolling through the house slack as a rope
to drop like a mop on the kitchen floor
four paws flat against the door
to be dreamily re-born
with a sneeze and a yawn
activity forsworn
snoring
adoringly
his head inevitably lower than his arse
(I know – don’t ask
I’m no famous sleep professor
maybe it makes his dreams flow better)