Sleep, you demon, where are you
On this night when the air is so thick
With the aroma of gardenia?
What happened to your habit of taking
Me when I wasn't ready
And your appearance was inappropriate?
My need for you now is like unto nothing
That has possessed my mind and body before.
I feel I will die if I do not fold myself
Into you soon.
I long for the coolness that is you
The warmth that is you
The peace.
Yet you hold yourself just beyond my reach.
Lay your sweetness over me and
Let me know once again
That absolute joy that only you can bring me.
Come in my open window
And give me what only you can.
Ah, angel, here you are.
A contest entry
- Insomnia by Danna Hobart.
300 points, ended September 2, 2007, 17 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Even an insomniac has to sleep eventually.
Comments
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This is a little more prosey than I am looking for in this contest.
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Too bad for me. Much success. Linda
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