No Saddle to Mount

Damn, you mean I wasn't alone
in that humdrum of lonely count
sleep kept fading in and out
with no saddle I could mount.

Riot of thoughts and recalls
now including you in the fray
stirrings spreading all over
more and more each day.

Sleep is kinfolk, a relative
to the prolificness of writes.
Not wishing to give in, even
in the wee hours of nights.

Like chiffon curtains,
a scarf drug cross my face
sleep dangles and teases
like soft silk and lace.

At 4:00 in the morning
that time stamp of knowing
that night has slipped away
daybreak soon will be blowing.

I go to my PC in hopes
I'll find words from you.
As yet to be disappointed
you are now pulling me thru.

Least now I can relish in
knowing I am not totally alone.
Your head on another pillow
counting in our sleepless drone.

Your words, so soothing
such a calming soft cache.
And always so touching
as you ease me thru the day.

Del Cano 2005 Nov