Angel In My Bed (Head) Poem by Robert Cohen

The figure I found beside me;
was an image too fair for my mortal eyes,
too pure for my iniquitous mind.
Was she the creation of my imagination?
Was the source of this illusion caused
by a supernatural delusion?
A byproduct of idiosyncratic thought patterns
that had become systematic to my being.
I wondered.

I found myself sheltered
in the bed alongside this spectral form.
Unconcerned about the storm which
surrounded the building in which I was confined.
Immensely thankful to be on the inside.
Nestled alongside the deity.

I feel the necessity to shape an effigy,
of this manifestation of Aphrodite,
and present it to her in a glamorous ceremony.
Sparing no cost.

I will soon be awake and none of this
will matter anymore,
but the lucidity of this vision
has given me a reason for comfort.
And despite the distorted dream,
there are angels among us, it would seem.