She lies upon ivory sheets,
her body poised in rest's repose,
in dreams she tastes heavenly treats,
the sleeping rose.
Her crimson lips, so soft and moist,
betray the passion within her dreams,
her secret love remains unvoiced,
in sleeping schemes.
Her flawless fancy comes each night,
perfect, the hero found in sleep,
no false debate, just pure delight,
in passions seep.
When morning calls her mind awake,
her smiling eyes cannot disguise,
how love departs with dream's keep sake
and yawning sighs.
© Jem Farmer 2009, all rights reserved.
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