THE tired stars have dripped their sapphire dew Upon the little hills that wander home When night has dropped its clover-scented blue To soothe the heart of him who needs must roam. And in the still and twilit peace of now The thought of you comes like a whispered prayer Across the slow-tracked miles to show me how I long to feel your smooth hands in my hair, While you breathe benediction through my soul Till all the heated cares of day are gone To leave my spirit newly clean and whole And fragrant as your breast I leaned upon. But here the long dark night is hot and still, And even stars forsake this high bleak hill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |