If I could be there

If I could be there with you in your room,  
beside your bed, at edge of night  
when day is done
and sleep begins to fold around your eyes,
to bring some comfort to you then,
I would.
 
If I could wing you  with my voice
away from troubling day’s
rough edge,
by speaking low to mild you, Oh
I would.
 
If I could place a fondling kiss
upon your drowsiness,  
the sort of kiss above your eyes
that makes you part your lips and sigh,
and sigh again for pleasured sighing’s sake,
the needed kiss
that keeps you warm
and wraps you pillow soft in peace
and peaceful dreams,
I would.
 
If I could stroke your brow adoringly,
in such a way
that any surly rankling cares
and worries vexing you would then become
all weightless,
insubstantial, trivial things and powerless,
I would.
 
And if you’d wish to have me hold you quietly enfolding you
in what small hushing stillness that my arms might ease in you, or nestle you
against my chest
or shoulder’s rounded strength that’s there,  
sworn fast, to guard you, keep you safe throughout the night,
 
I would,
I would,
I would.