She’s sleeping there on the chaise,
on her face a gentle look;
dreaming no doubt of flowers,
and quiet hours with a book.
Her eyes are closed, her heart eased,
and I am pleased that she rests;
May her dreams be sweet and kind,
and may she find peaceful hours.
When she wakes in the morning
may the day bring her gladness
filled with laughter and sunshine
and a decline in sadness.
I listen to her soft snore,
wanting no more than her joy;
she fills where I am nothing,
and brings happiness sublime.
01 APR 2004