The White Ship - Poem by David McLansky
(1) My Queen Asleep
Aroused by movement in the room,
I awake again in wonder,
To see the aide move round her bed,
My wife, weak breath, aslumber.
Two weeks she's lain,
My sleeping bride,
At peace without protest,
I vigil to her bier, bedside,
Her Prince on patient quest.
So pale she is, her cheeks so white,
The sheets tucked round her, drawn and tight;
She who couldn't stand blankets on,
Sleeps shrouded in the waking dawn.
Now she lays deaf to my kiss,
My prayers, my touch of her frail wrists;
The sleeping monarch of my heart,
Oh fragile breath, do not depart.
Comments about The White Ship by David McLansky
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.