This is a sestina I wrote for the lovely girl I married. She is worth every hour I spent on this poem. May we spend eternity with each other.

Bridget

The sun bows to the lake for a kiss.
As he stretches his amber arm,
the mementos he gently leaves
are your life's memories which warm
the heart, and the cricket's song
to softly lull you into sleep.

What memories will you take to sleep?
What recollections will your thoughts kiss?
Will you smile at an old radio song,
or in reflection of an arm
that embraced you on a warm
starlit night, under summer leaves?

I take lamplit walks under leaves
when your thoughts are replaced with sleep.
My distracted thoughts keep me warm,
though I should feel the night's cold kiss.
Reflection's all encircling arm
bewitchingly steals my peace with her song.

I search for solace in the cricket song.
I fight and lose. Again, it leaves.
I think of your hand on my arm.
I want to call you, but you sleep.
I believe I still feel your kiss.
Your voice's echo keeps my soul warm.

One questions, "Do you know the warm
hue of your hair? The joyful song
your voice inspires? Or of the kiss
of bliss that your fleeting glance leaves
with me? I would tell you, except sleep
has you now. You rest on his arm.

I look at the watch on my arm,
and wish I was at home and warm,
then turn to walk there, so I can sleep.
My headphones play an upbeat song.
Soon I'm skipping through the fallen leaves.
And eventually, I leave Night's kiss.

The sun will kiss you and touch your arm.
And so night leaves, replaced by the warm
melodious bird song which dispels your sleep.

-T. Gene Davis