When all the world is fast asleep
and only sounds of breathing
ride moonbeams in the air.
Many ancient souls awaken
float above the hearts of lovers
slip into a dream with tender care.
They will occasionally find a space
and bearing gifts of conscience
will snuggle up as new life, barely there.
Some will sympathise with woe
or chuckle at tom foolery
others rid a sleep of deep despair.
The ghosts of all who walked before
are free to come and loath to go
Most of us, will never know they’re there.
Roan Feb 2008
Ann Beard
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fast-asleep/
