The Sleepwalker, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The SleepwalkerThe Sleepwalker, Maximillian Pirner (1878)

The Sleepwalker

A love to steal, who she thinks is real
Pondering over him both day and night
Her deep anguish she attempts to conceal
Searching the darkness without any fright

In the secret of her mind he’s divine
She claims his perfect love never to spurn
Eager to have their hot bodies entwine
Before daylight she finds a safe return

She knows one day of finding her lover
That she would soon share the warmth of his bed
Then one deep dark night she did discover
The exact place where he did lay his head

On the narrow ledge, not taking a breath
Wind came along, now falling to her death

Published by

bobsieczkiewicz

Husband, Father, Grandfather, Lover of all beautiful things. I love to read and write poetry. My favorite hangouts are libraries and museums and yet I love being outdoors. I am a dreamer of things that could be.

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