SLUMBER

 

 

 

Slumber

The rain was tiring,
still heavy, yet hinting at its intention to lull and spot with random fall.
You moved to sleep, while I watched night-gales shadow play
with moonlight and twig puppets.
And your hair appeared to flow across
the pillow, bored with your torpor.
What innocents were we,
thinking love was an amulet,
that dawn is always welcome,
let us keep this night as our day
so we need not open our eyes,
but listen to the tiring rain.

10 thoughts on “SLUMBER

  1. Nigel,
    It is wonderful to hear you read your poem again as you softly bring every word alive.
    Lines like:
    ” And your hair appeared to flow across
    the pillow, bored with your torpor. ”
    and
    “What innocents were we,
    thinking love was an amulet, ”

    are just brilliant. There is a sadness too.?

    Miriam

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so very much Miriam, yes there is a hint of sadness. I had in mind where, for whatever reason, being in love is not always enough, and certainly no protection against the dark winds that blow across life’s path at times.

      Liked by 1 person

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