Nor even slightly stir.
We must not lose the wonder of this moment,
To the doubts and demons of the past.
Let there be no clamoring world beyond the door.
No saboteurs who would destroy us for their pleasure.
Only the reality that is now.
Ever so sweetly, So gently.
Continue to breathe upon my shoulder,
As we both remember magic, until the morning comes.
Until the morning comes.
back to the Short Story Page.Until the Morning Comes, 30 December 1999