Philip Booth - Nightsong

Beside you,
Lying down at dark,
My waking fits your sleep.

Your turning
Flares the slow-banked fire
Between our mingled feet,

And there,
Curved close and warm
Against the nape of love,

Held there,
Who holds your dreaming
Shape, I match my breathing

To your breath;
And sightless, keep my hand
On your heart's breast, keep

Nightwatch
On your sleep to prove
There is no dark, nor death.

Philip Booth

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nightsong/