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

Gone now,

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