On a Grey Thread/Love Sleep

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Love Sleep

Watch my Love in sleep:Is she not beautifulAs a young flower at nightWeary and glad with dew?
Pale curved bodyThat I have kissed too much,Warm with slumber's flush;Breasts like mounded snow,Too small for children's mouths;Lips a red spring budMy love will bring to bloom.
How restlessly she moves!She, no more than a child,Stirs like a woman troubledWith guilt of secret sins.
Twin furtive tearsGlide from the shadows,Her eyes' shadowed blue.Her dreaming must be sad.
What grief to watching loveThat it is impotent,For all its reckless strength,When the sleep gates close.

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