The Web Poetry Corner - Monty Bing - Slipping away
A gentle breeze disturbed your hair -
I felt it brush against my neck, and,
though we lay there back to back,
I had no need to turn and check that you slept still,
in deepest sleep.
For I could hear the sound of dreaming:
whispered breath and gentle sighs.
I listened, almost hypnotised;
The rythym of your dreaming kept a steady pace
and drew me in.
It closed about me as I lay;
all fear now outside - calm within.
I felt my eyes begin to close.
I felt myself begin to float, as if upon some gentle sea
but knowing, that I couldn't drown
as long as you were there by me.
And I could sense that you were there.
I dreamt that I could feel your warmth.
Gently, I moved back an inch.
Our bodies touched.
That softest touch.
Just gentle breath and whispered sighs
to lift and carry me away like incense,
on a summer's night or birdsong,
on a winter's day but higher,
than I'd been before.
Now I saw that gentle sea as if,
from God's own point of view as if,
God's Earth had set me free to rise,
and soar on angels wings to break,
from all that held me down to break,
from all that held me dear.
Outside. The clouds have trapped the moon.
Inside. The room now full of shadows, playing.
I see no more the gentle sea and mourn,
the passing of the light for here,
is dark and quite alone,