I can hear you sleeping
Like a softly penned letter
That you plan on keeping
Sound asleep next to me
Under the ink of a drying sky
If I were a wordsmith
A creative license
To puncture my journals with
I would write of the sight
Under my green poetic eye
I’m a yearling
A callow school boy
In the eyes of love
A pallid virgin
Just a newborn
Barely breathing
In the eyes of love
I’m a yearling
As I share this pathos
The smothering poem
Breathes in a breath of prose
Breathe you in and again
Dizzying features of love rush by
Cause I’m a yearling
A callow school boy
In the eyes of love
A pallid virgin
Just a newborn
Barely breathing
In the eyes of love
I’m a yearling
Torn from a book of blank verse
Born from these pages I’ve nursed
Awakened by the sleeping eyes of love
Cause I’m a yearling
A callow school boy
In the eyes of love
A pallid virgin
Just a newborn
Barely breathing
In the eyes of love
I’m a yearling