Cotton

Where are my words are they lost on the wind

that ours have suddenly gone still.
For I have found myself in the comfort of your silence
as your hold on my heart is my will.
Your sway is soothing your whispers are warm
as there is no place rather I’d be.
For surely as I am caught beneath your dreaming
I contemplate do you dream of me.
Yet if your dream is a wish of a kiss have you missed
then your dreaming is certainly true.
For of all the wishes of the kisses I’ve missed
Know I have dreamt them all –
Of you

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2007