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Sleeping Babe

by Cynthia Proctor
Sometimes in twilight

lavender fingers veil navy skies

heaven's music sighs to my heart

and I feel your touch so close

sleeping as a babe

held within my essence

clouds unbearably gray

cotton my throat

and I utter not a sound

my air

swallowed by softness

all I see

all I feel

held by the hand

of this sleeping babe

in the fiery moon

of my heart

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Copyright © 1998 by Cynthia Proctor. All rights reserved.