by Harry St. Vincent Beechey
Dark lashes lace her eyes in sleep.
Her lips, downturned in dream,
Belie the tranquillity of her face.
I brush the kiss-curl from her forehead
And gaze upon her beauty.
Scarcely breathing I watch her in wonder
The smooth brow,
Even the laugh lines that light her waking face
Yielding to youthful innocence each dawn.
Her chin, still firm. Her neck, smooth, unlined,
Leads secretly into the darkness of a drawn up blanket
Rising and falling so gently with her breathing
For timeless moments I watch my sleeping love
Until the intensity of my gaze
Alerts some hidden sentry.
The eyelids flicker.
The blue eyes regard me gravely.
I kiss her smile.
© copyright 1989 H.St.V.Beechey