Michael Nibert Poet I do not know?

The Pillow of You

I slept with your vision
in dreams last night,
'till glaring incision
of realities daylight
pierced my lonely eyes.

I awoke with a cold
sweat on my brow,
my pillow I hold
and wish that somehow
its' softness was you.

My temperatures' rising
of vain hopeful wish,
thru long days fantasizing
for the grace of your kiss
O could 'ere dreams come true!

Now the night it comes falling
on my lonely head,
once again I go crawling
to my tearstained bed
and the pillow of you.

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Darlene De Beaulieu October 5, 2016 at 11:14 AM Yes this is sad your poem brought tears to my eyes,because I am mourning my dead husband. We use to hold hands while we slept. Oh how I miss that touch.It is a lovely sad poem.