I Was Just Watching Your Soul Flutter About Whilst You Were Sleeping

Seriously, it just sort of levitated
on up and out of your body.
A spectral bluish/grey/white…
hovered there a moment,
then sat up, stretched and yawned.
It was beautiful,
you were a girl again,
but as I stared more intently
I realized that you just looked younger
because… all of the stress, worry
and day-to-day grind had vanished.
I saw you reach into your nightie pocket
and pull out some child’s bubbles,
then blow colours, whilst giggling,
up into the air, before rolling onto your back
and popping them with your playful toes.
You were singing ‘Do-Re-Mi’
out of tune and in quite an atrocious manner,
cheekily and on purpose.
Then counting upon your fingers
the many different ways to teatime.
You smiled that ‘Smile’ again…
My God, it’s been so very long,
my heart sighed mountain-size to see you.
Go back to sleep, my love, this instant,
come cwtch up and share my warmth.
There’s a message here, a sign of some kind…
and we’ll both ponder it tomorrow come the dawn.

Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world. He yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his books Scribblings Of A Madman (Lit Fest Press); Poetry From The Nearest Barstool; and a split poetry book The Raven And The Vagabond Heart with Bethany W Pope. Read other articles by Paul, or visit Paul's website.