Sleep, be not proud

English: A Sleeping moon in a cap.

Image via Wikipedia

Ah, sleep, my coy mistress.  Stay a while, lay beside me, share my bed.  You’ve been so shy of late, I wondered if we had quarreled while my back was turned.  I missed you as I lay awake last night, remembering the sweetness of your caress.  I am no fly-by-night lover, no one-night stand; I dream of a life-long commitment, a bed shared nightly, perhaps a few late afternoon trysts in the warm sunshine.  I dream of a lingering touch, of selves entwined, no union more perfect than ours.

Did I make you unhappy when I dallied with a daydream?  It was a passing encounter, over before it began.  It could never rival the bond we share, who have lain so many nights together, shared so many dreams together, been afraid together, been warm together, been restless and peaceful and content together.  What could a daydream, a frivolous, fluttering daydream, know of that?  Was it only the other morning I left your side, unwilling, grudging, craving only to remain?  Come back, sleep, to where you belong, and I promise no daydream will ever come between us again.

Drowsy, I stumble to bed, wishing only for your companionship.  I lie in the dark, waiting, hoping, needing.  I endlessly devise seductions and abductions to bring you back to my embrace.  Sleep, sleep, what have I done that you would treat me so, what harm have I inflicted that keeps you from my side?  Come back to me, sleep, grace me with your attentions, wrap your languorous limbs around me and stifle my lecherous lamentations.  I humble myself before you, my own, my beloved, my absent mistress, sleep.