She
sleeps,
My Red.
Slumbering
deep
alongside,
I feel her dreams
seep,
into me,
fitful and fractious or
calm and light.
Through them all
she holds.
Not a thousand times a thousand
treasures or other delights
could draw me away this night.
For she has been long sought
this red curled angel
of fairness
This soft, sweet beckoning
beauty
in endearing repose
A creature not easily known
but by a few men
bold enough to unlock the magic
of her soul.
I count myself a fool
to hold such a fortune
as this in my arms
And will continue
to play the fool
for her all my days
to come.

By Philip Wardlow 2018