, , , , , , , , , , ,

2nd December, 1999 | 1:30 AM

Bleary-eyed, I yearn for your arms
To give my haggard heart
A halcyon hold –
But, you do not come.

You lie in bed with others,
Loving them, satisfying them,
Riding with them
To lands of Sybarite pleasures.

But, you baulk me,
Denying me the transport
That they enjoy
In the dark hours of the night.

You, comforting Goddess,
Young and enchanting –
I lie awake – broken, in distress,
Come to me, O’ Sleep, thou truant mistress.