Morpheus’ Tryst

Well, no harm in dreaming! (A revision of an old one)


Fancy a glass of Beaujolais?

Both snug on the sofa, 
I chuckle at his banter,
until clock chimes suggest
we whisper goodnight

He fingers my ring –
yet bold lips brush mine;
a lingering feather-touch,
tantalizingly tender

leaving me gasping
as we sway in the doorway,
wide eyes scribbling messages;

Warm breath tickles my neck;
smothered in sinfulness
I crave more,
then jolt awake
my heart drumming
to warbler’s early serenade.

My man sleeps –
I turn back to doze
to dream again.


© capricorn 2020
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critique and comments welcome.
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Bloody hell! What’s the lable on the bottle, can I get it at Morrisons?


Crikey, you never know what’s going on in the minds of wives, and the missed opportunities we never know about! Never trust the half-dreaming state in the few moments between ‘goodnight’ and snoring! Many a hidden wish can slip out only to be dampened by that grumpy old spoil-sport, reality! Love that fourth stanza.


Very evocative. And now the terrible critiquer will point out it should be warbler’s!
Very best, JohnG

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