The Daily Rick

Quiet in her sleep-soaked murmurs,
Watching the rise and fall of her breathing,
Hypnotic in the pale yellow light of the room,
Her slumber, now firmer,
No struggle, no seething,
Peace beyond that of a tomb.

I stare with lead eyelids, angelic she lies,
My whispers fall silently still
On her lips.
None can disturb, no one denies,
Not a stir nor a spill,
Subconscious she quakes at the fingertips.

Dressed in my arms,
Draped crimson locks,
Her eyelashes dart in quick quivers.
Sleep won't decrease her sweet feminine charms,
As the world spins its clocks,
And what the night promises, it slowly delivers.

-11.25.2003