Elizabeth Wakes Again

Once more I'm summoned: Out of the soft grays of an almost-sleep, Pulled by your cries through the still murk Of our house, resting quiet as a stone, The hour unknown, but one of the dead ones That verges on the dawn. I enter your tiny room resolved on threats, If that's what it'll take, this time. - But there you stand trembling, pink fingers grasping the crib, So sadeyed it makes my heart ache With the love of you. And once again I lift you, hold you tight As you sob into my shoulder apologetically. You've no word for the Terrors that assault you by night; Can't name them to me, that I might banish them With whatever Father-Magic I possess. So I give consolation as best I may, In soothing murmmers and enfolding arms, Before I lay you back down, now calmed for a time Then shuffle on back to await the next roundl My head swims with its want of sleep, I'm too tired now To feel even traces of an acceptable anger At all these nightly robberies of my rest. Besides, I've no word for my formless fears either, And no teddies to post for guard; But a warm and loving wife lies in wait To comfort me.