Classic Poem

When dawn was tipping like a sword
Hung by a hair above your head,
Your eye's thick lid could ill afford
To lift so much as width of a thread.
You snuggled down into your bed.

In lights of steel the dawn stirred there
Until your cheek bone was outlined
With crystal and your coloring hair
Was streakéd like a melon's rind.
You would not let it tint your mind.

Blindly you turned as to a mother
To darkness that had been your foe.
You knew that there could be no other
To so appease your subtle woe.
Over you moved the day's white glow.

You breathed, and for your breath you found
Air like the waters of a lake,
And quivers of leaf and twittered sound.
You moved and thought your heart would break
Learning you were so soon to wake.