While He Sleeps

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    While He Sleeps

    While He Sleeps
    Breathing slowly deeply

    beside me

    I stare at the room (blue peace with white whispers)

    and remember other rooms, always blue and soft

    (is it ocean or sky? I never can decide)



    but sleep is courting you

    as I watch from the front porch

    too lost in the sweetness of night

    the quiet

    to close my eyes

    inside my head I hum a tune

    with forgotten words

    but a melody that causes a familiar ache

    the smell of salt

    a summer lost

    too many rotations ago

    the fan blows a breeze across my skin

    making the white on the windows dance

    You stir....

    I try to still myself

    and resist the urge to touch

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    GeoffreyMalloy commented on While He Sleeps

    05-24-2009

    This was nice, drawing in the senses through retrospection, and stirring the mind to recollection. Made me think and smile of my own. Very cool! };y

    When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

    John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

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