The best moments are born when we sleep entwined, safely cocooned, our dreams woven together in a delightful tangle.
For the love of sleep
The lovers two, they had it all wrong,
dancing close 'til the shadows brushed
their sweet delights in the hayloft, in the eiderdown,
in the soft green moss beneath the apple trees,
a little sister tittering from behind a rock
as they loved deep and low until the witching hour
when the clock boomed loud and the field mice
nibbled their toes, sending them scattering home.
They had it all wrong, those lovers two;
had they come together as the birds fell silent,
at that moment when twilight sits heavy as a blanket
damp with dew, pressing their eyelids low,
they would have found the bliss they sought
drawing salted hot skin fresh into their dreams,
while her hair draped long made a living pillow
bright with the wild, sweet scent of rosemary.
March 12, 2009