MIDNIGHT

When I was young there came to me a dream. Previously I had seen my first black woman, working at a cosmetics counter in a local department store. I was mesmerised; beauty, style and grace of movement - the lot. 

I was "moved-on" by another member of staff who uprooted me from my loitering but we met again, in a dream, after I wrote this fantasy.

    

Tiptoe to my chamber,

as the clock it strikes the hour;

the hour of day to day. 

    

Tiptoe to my chamber, 

and knock upon my door;

a knock I've often longed for. 

  

Come forth beside my bed, 

stretch out your silken hand, 

and I'll draw you down, 

down into a bliss, 

a world of white and eiderdown, 

until that time of blinding fervour 

comes and passes 

wains and dies 

and sleep encroaches upon our lives;

taking us off, 

off to bliss of dreamy sleep, 

of thoughts and actions, 

pleasures and ecstasies; 

life's loves found, 

now all surpassed.

In the hour of day to day.