Garden Of Sleep Poem by Arthur Bernstein

On the grass of the cliff,
At the edge of the steep,
God planted a garden...
A garden of sleep.
'Neath the blue of the sky,
In the green of the corn...
It is there that the regal
Red poppies are born.
Brief days of desire,
And long dreams of delight,
They are mine when my poppy land
Cometh in sight.
Oh, heart of my heart!
When the poppies are born,
I am waiting for thee
In the hush of the corn.
Oh, heart of my heart!
Where the poppies are born,
I am waiting...waiting for thee
In the hush of the corn.