Poezja

She softly spoke my name during her sleep,
turned around on a cool linen sheet
while slowly along the dark night did creep,
the air was with fragrant lavender sweet,
had the smell of jasmine and cinnamon,
stretching out naked across the soft bed
her limbs and body in the moonlight shone
and on the pillow laid her curly head,
before at dawn the many stars were shed.