Sunlight filtered
By trees that last night
Stood nearly silent guard
About us as we  broke
New ground,
Dapples the canvas
Of my tent

Daylight and day bird's chirrup
Would deny the mystery of what went before,
Gone the soft silence
Of the silver moon,

Perhaps too that which
May after all be but dream
Despite the delicious languor
In mine limbs and
Through my soul

I lay betwixt and between,
Half awake and
Half still clinging
To my dream when with
Movement not of mine
Tousled brunette over a shy and sleep creased smile
Says "hi"