What Nights Are Yours, These Nearer Winds Poem by james watkin

What nights are yours, these nearer winds
Have my broke sleep, with pondering
Inserted? From what of their clawed
Shadowy movements, cowering

That head, as such your pillow bears
With its blossoms' fragility?
Dare they to be rogues, whistling taunts!
Or to loom as, were I with thee.

An impress of the night's cold face
Does your window make? Lest it run
From the side, warmest, of love's troth
Be ye assured, as by the sun.