Sky Blanket
The eye in the sky is closed
from some great sleepy lid;
Too weary with lovesick worry,
and laced wisps seep into the grey
tomorrow ----
where blue shall find my eyes,
for today is dull with moody-gloom
But inside a sun shines,
despite the great sleep without,
as she delicately smiles,
through the terrace window ----
toying my return with her toes,
" Put down your pen, " she says,
" It's cold outside, "
" and I want you warm under the blankets.... "
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