Beside you,
Lying down at dark,
My waking fits your sleep.
Your turning
Flares the slow-banked fire
Between our mingled feet,
And there,
Curved close and warm
Against the nape of love,
Held there,
Who holds your dreaming
Shape, I match my breathing
To your breath;
And sightless, keep my hand
On your heart's breast, keep
Nightwatch
On your sleep to prove
There is no dark, nor death.
Philip Booth
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nightsong/
