You were tired today,

You had to lay your head

And rest.


I wanted to lift you

In finest silk

For your skin,

Shimmering and noiselessly weaved,

Cool against your touch;


Wave my hand down

A billion feathers,

Curled and blurred in

Tawny curves to

Receive your back.


Snap! The sun is dim,

Your eyes to rest.

Two clicks and traffic paused,

Your ears in peace.


Flexing arms now,

Slow the rotation of that

Heavy globe,

To stretch the minutes respite you seek

Into hours and days.



Spirit fingers submerge

‘Neath your brow

And gently sieve those thoughts

‘Til sleep comes creeping in.


I wish…


Instead I tiptoe,

Curtain closed,

Lay curled against you,

Wishing this and more,

Cursing the less I bring.


Cursing the less I bring

And wish it could be more.



© S Dyer 2009


About Stuart Dyer

Stuart Dyer, Christian Writer and Musician living in West Sussex, England. Works in the hope of producing the worthy novel or solo; giggles at Oliver Hardy, Peter Sellers and Spike Jones; admires Hudson Taylor, Dickens, Salinger, Bill Bailey and Neil Peart; listens from Wagner to Miles with lots of stops in between; dances to motown and aims to achieve balance in all things.
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One Response to Wishes

  1. Pingback: Sometime’s It’s Not What You Have… | jdc-witherton

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