Sleep

What seems to hover about now?
Is it the rhythm of the night?
Or does darkness call?
Slowly it creeps over
Sending my head to the world of my pillow
with eyes set on the willow
right outside my window
They shut slowly,
Thus the last glance I steal before I drown
In my blissful darkness
The last I feel,the gentle breeze
Which calls out to my curtain drapes.