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Sleeping Potion
by Ken HarnischIt is that time, isn’t it?
When you must retire
Or else face the demons wrought
By too little sleep and too much me
I smile to know you indulge
My whims and
Faded seductions
But never leave, as if wondering
If I am able to sustain, with a phrase,
Your will to stay
I keep your eyes fluttering at the poetry
And your body heated
With the hope it could be
Real.
Alas, the poetry is rainfall
Dropped plentifully upon fields
More fallow with hope
Than deliverance
You came along when
Too many verses had been dog-eared
With memory
But if the words help you sleep
Long and well
Then consider this your elixir
And I’ll consider you mine 11/12/2007 Posted on 11/12/2007
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 11/12/07 at 01:53 PM I like this very much, and particularly the next-to-last stanza. |
| Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 11/12/07 at 05:18 PM This intimate scene... the reading... the almost asleep of it and as if the words might be dream seeds... I especially love the "elixir" in this poem... this alone gives an intensity behind everything... because whatever of your "eyes fluttering" "dog-eared with memory verse" you are reading her...this "elixir" is the best there could be in life for both of you. |
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