I awake in the night and whisper your name,
is it just a dream when only silence replies?
a melancholy descends like a blanket of shame
at the arousal of remembering your Siren's eyes.
Such sleep as I had not enjoyed in long ages
disturbed by the intrusion of an old lovers face,
rearing up to unbalance the serenity pages,
your name passes my lips with yearning grace.
Unsettled by your surprise and quiet arrival
I lay back, anxiously sigh to the waiting void,
uneasy closing my eyes, craving dream survival
but the illusion of rest has now been destroyed.
I sleep in the night and whisper your name,
is it a dream as the silence in mute rejoice?
A sadness drops slow like a blanket of shame,
at the distance of remembering your Siren's voice.
© Pagan Paul (21/10/18)