The Bed In Morning

A Poem

The Bed in Morning

Sing me the song that women sing,
When rock to sleep their babes,
And sing it quick before the ring,
So that my soul be saved.

Each note a precious spark that fades,
Against the waning day,
Each stroke a chance relume our flames,
To light the darkened way.

Blow up my spirit with bellows fine,
That set the air a-twirl,
Show me the breath that fills our kind,
And let your strings unfurl.

Last tender love that warms my bones,
Cover my eyes with mirth,
I’ll fall asleep amidst the moans,
If you do not fall first.

Now if I sleep, It is to rise
Again and full renewed,
A happy fool among the wise,
Who sings a happy tune.

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