I, Woman, do not slumber,
ne’r do dream of valleys deep,
Nor Soft caress or tender weep…
This heart alone, it cannot sleep.
Chamber only for the one;
the oft reflections not outdone.
Not by ten thousand nights less sun
Would comfort bind, restore; just one…
I, Woman do bleed and cut,
I feel too much; perhaps it all.
Does this need to be my fall?
Let me sleep, God Grace be kind,
I offer thee this one rewind.
Make me Woman tender, good.
Do let my Heart love as it should.
Grant that I may Feel through Soul,
And take My First, each day, extolled.
©2012 Linda Willows
Photograph by Christian Weiss