Slumber

A poem about my feelings of a slumber of my lady.

Sleep

Oh such beauty do I observe while she sleeps.

Such elegance and grace that makes queens look like paupers.

Doth she dream of me? I know not the answer to my question.

But I do pray to be out of this plain.

To be free from where Romeo once was.

But am I such the same as Romeo such was?

I still know not.

But with what grace and passion may I attempt to woo her with my love?

With song? With flowery persuasions?

With what method be proven useful to aid in my loves upcoming?

I wish to have wings, so that I may fly into her dreams and see what she seeks.

From what light breaks the veil so that I may see her beauty?

What task of such proportion of moving mountains?

What must I do?

What must I change to obtain that which is matched in love to myself?

I know not how to match my love to my true proportions.

To be that which she may find lovable.

Even I know not of my true intentions.

Whether it be of love, or fear.

But all the same, I do love her.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the poem. The question of love. Always leave us guessing.
"Whether it be of love, or fear.
But all the same, I do love her."
Love need daily reminders. Simple gifts as a flower or kind words. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote