Here Comes the Night Child

A poem about sleeping and dreams

                Here comes the night child,
                bringing kisses, weaving dreams
                Clothe only gossamer silk,
                sheer in the light of the full moon's beam

                She'll cradle you in her arms,
                as you nuzzle against her breast.
                Singing erotic lullabyes
                as your eyes close to rest.

                She takes you to a dreamscape,
                were clouds are lofty spires.
                Lay down on green luscious grass,
                vivid visions steeped with desires.

                Alas, the pink and purple hues
                signals the break of dawn,
                Before the sun rises from the waves,
                the night child will be gone.