949. Let your breast be my pillow, my dove,

SONNET 949
By JH Sayyar
Let your breast be my pillow, my dove,
Where heartbeats soothes the weary soul,
Moonlight sifts through silken dreams of love,
To make the shattered wanderer feel whole
Let all the worlds in shadow drift away,
Its clang and cry, its sorrow and its shame—
Here in your arms, let silence softly stay,
And breath is music whispering your name.
No throne I seek, no kingdom, crown, nor gold,
But just the warmth that in your bosom lies—
A haven gentle, fierce, and deep and bold,
More sacred than the stars that light the skies

So hush me close, and hold the world at bay
Let love be peace till night dissolves to day