I watch you, as you sleep,
the glow, a rosy hue
of Roman cheeks,
a tiny trickle, as if glued
onto the crease of lips
so red and so inviting,
your hands asleep
in what they call the warmest spot
of living humans,
I wish I could,
and surely would.
I am your guard tonight,
just sitting here,
prepared to be the death
of horny demons,
should they forget their place
and wander in.
I have now put the final cork away,
and opened up the kitchen clock
to rip the living battery
and put an end to it,
the pulse of time.
I shall be happy just to sit
here, by your side,
and dream about the warmth
of you, in all those feather downs.
For Angie
I wondered why I slept with so much ease last night, and truly do sleep under a blanket of down. :) Thanks Herbert, what a 'beautiful' poem.... and sentiment. I love it. :)
Tender and humorous at the same time indeed, Herbs. Nice to see you smiling again. Love, Gina.
This is a wonderful piece. Something touching and yet humerous. Beyound a simple love poem and one that states oneself. The guarian of treasure. Well done my friend. I am a sucker for beauty and you capture it well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a fablous concept - ripping the batteries out of a clock so you can stop the pulse of time and stay in a perfect moment. What a dream world - full of the warmth of love!