Sleepless Night

As I turn to my side,
I see her face.
The first thing I do is give her,
A gentle kiss, and a warm embrace,
But quietly, so as not to wake her from that musing place.

That place she goes,
Every night.
Where she is free,
To dream of me,
Where she can see, with any sight.

It is these dreaming moments,
When I turn and see her sleep,
That I appreciate the most,
Because I know,
That she is mine to keep.

So I kiss her cheek,
Gently and meek,
With all of my care.
And then I began to cry ghostly tears,
That runoff into her labryth of hair.

But now in her sleep she turns,
In her solemn slumber,
She faces me.
Me. And if there were blood in these vein,
It would churn, and it would yearn for her.

I love that woman,
With an precedented amount of love.
And I let her be,
While she's sleeping,
While she's dreaming of me.