~a Hillside Lullaby~ Poem by Andrew John Morra

I sit on the hillside,
nothing to do,
just me and my thoughts,
watching the sky go blue.

I hear the swish,
of a very soft dress,
a girl is walking,
into my mess.

She sits down,
puts her head on my knee,
and we both know,
she loves me.

Hair like soft satin,
thick and black,
so silky and shiny,
it has nothing to lack.

My hand comes down,
gentle and sure,
caresses her hair,
so shiny and pure.

I watch her as,
her eyelids slip,
become unfocused,
she pouts her lip.

She is asleep,
so selfless and caring,
worthy of anything,
so recklass and daring.

I sit there,
on the beautiful hill,
but the girl asleep,
is more beautiful still.

I pick a flower,
a white rose,
my favourite flower,
also the girl in the doze.

I thread it through,
behind her ear,
into her hair,
I hold her dear.

She is my flower,
my little light,
saves me from darkness,
our little plight.

She teaches me to,
forget the dark,
there will be a loss,
if I take it's mark.

I'd lose my little angel,
so soft and pure,
worth more than anything,
even gold, frankinsence, and myrrh.

It is my duty,
to be her guard,
it has never been,
really hard.

Until now,
in a twist of fate,
I may lose my angel,
to the darkness of hate.

I cannot have her,
this is a dream,
but I still love her,
each and every scene.

She carefully eludes me,
dancing with care,
and I would never find a girl,
other than her as rare.

She must be mine,
must be I say,
she eludes me,
yet here she lay.

I feel my eyes,
drifting down,
sleep is tempting,
like a very wealthy crown.

Maybe just a nap,
no more than a rest,
I will wake before she leaves me,
the bird in my nest.

My eyes snap open,
something has changed,
the girl is gone,
now she stands on the hill so deranged.

Everything is on fire,
even my love,
not a bird calls,
not even a dove.

She turns around,
fire in her eyes,
the white rose above her ear,
wilts and dies.

She set things to flames,
my Queen of Fire,
to serve her,
my only desire.

I stand,
the King of Fire,
lift her hand,
higher and higher.

I plant a soft kiss,
atop that hand,
and she smiles like no other,
girl in this land.

I pull her close,
her body fits into mine,
just two pieces of a jigsaw,
where one is so divine.

We stare into,
each other's eyes,
knowing we cannot,
tell each other lies.

Face of indulgence,
soul white and clean,
never unkind,
never mean.

She is now inclining,
her serene grace,
head closer to mine,
her little race.

Our lips begin to brush,
I hold her closer,
now they are in balance,
the perfect poster.

Now my eyelids,
flutter open,
dreams are secret,
never spoken.