The order calls for attention, At ten, at two, at five, And so frequently in between. Good gracious sakes alive!
Bleary-eyed, I stumble out, Though I can barely creep; I'm just a brand new papa now, In need of one night's sleep.
Anyone who has lived with a newborn will recognize the situation right away. The speaker is a brand-new dad whose baby demands attention at ten, at two, at five, and "so frequently in between" that there's hardly any rest at all. The title is a clever joke: Morpheus is the Greek god of dreams, so "paging" him is a bit like putting out a desperate call for sleep itself, as if the speaker were a hospital staffer trying to track down a missing doctor.
The tone is light and playful rather than bitter. The old-fashioned exclamation "Good gracious sakes alive!" makes the exhaustion sound almost comic, and the neat, bouncing rhymes keep things cheerful. Still, the tiredness is real. He stumbles around "bleary-eyed," barely able to "creep." The final line, a plain wish for "one night's sleep," lands as both a joke and a heartfelt plea. The poem captures that mix of weariness and humor that comes with early parenthood.