Woods White with fire
Poems of Shantiam
Sleepless Night
A sleepless night to come, I think
alone on my bed I lie
My curtain rustles
wind babbles its nonsense
the river hums softly its endless tune
a few quick footsteps
crunch past on the gravel
a dog, disappointed, barks ceaselessly
blurred voices in distance
old friends leave the tavern
noisily howling
a melancholy song
A sleepless night to come, I guess
alone on my bed I lie
The front door opens
he enters the kitchen
the kettle hums softly its homely tune
my cookies with currants
await on the table
I hear how he chuckles, how he nibbles the treat
his footsteps in staircase
barefoot up he tiptoes
he opens the door
to the room next door
He blows out his candle,
from under the door
I can see the faint light disappear
To see yet not feel
so near yet so far
I reach out to darkness
and quietly whisper
a spell, call his name, the one man I love
To hear yet not touch
so near yet so far
A sleepless night to come, yet again
alone on my bed I lie.
© Aigha
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