deepundergroundpoetry.com
Repose
It is the quiet times that I miss.
The loud silence of restful slumber.
The few precious twilit moments
When being near did not feel like being alone.
The inaudible whispers of rhythmic breathing,
The blessed contentment of the restful form.
Of watching over.
Of growing trust
Of shepherding dreams.
These things I miss.
The loud silence of restful slumber.
The few precious twilit moments
When being near did not feel like being alone.
The inaudible whispers of rhythmic breathing,
The blessed contentment of the restful form.
Of watching over.
Of growing trust
Of shepherding dreams.
These things I miss.
Published 19th Sep 2012
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Anonymous
- Edited 19th Sep 2012 11:49am
19th Sep 2012 11:48am
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