Sleeping, stirring

Watching Waiting Anticipating

I look around
The room,
And notice
Traces of her
Lying where they lay.

What passion had placed them there
I could only imagine.

The laughter,the sighs
On the soft, silken sheets.

Little soft feminine shirt
Sits on other things,
Made by
Gossemer's breath
and stirred by angel's wings.

The owner on the bed she lies,
Loved and left content,
Her chest rises and falls
As she sleeps,
wearing only her smile.