Your limbs
spill from silken sheets
shimmering in the glimmer
of morning squeezing between
window slats,
striping you like a convict,
but I am your prisoner.
Your lips
curl as you murmur,
conversing with lovers
in your dreams,
Your hips
burrow deeply
on the rhythm of your sighs
and I long to lie beside you,
lingering in the light,
but as dawn drives day
so must I away.
.
.
An aubade is a French leaving poem. It’s the opposite of a serenade, and is the song of a lover leaving his beloved in the morning. I’d never heard of the form before, and on the same day, I discovered it by accident (when I looked up a French lingerie company by the name and the definition came up) I found an aubade in the WordPress poetry feed. Quite a coincidence! Here is my first one. I should add, that I am unlikely to ever write one from experience, since generally I’m going to bed at dawn, while my husband is getting up! 😉
Shawn L. Bird 
Oh, never heard of the form either. Thank you for sharing.
It’s quite a lovely idea, isn’t it?
It sure is. ^_^
Lovely.
Thank you.
I certainly have not heard of that form. But it seems you’ve done the form justice in your poem.
Thank you.
So powerfully touching!! Love it!
Thanks.
Reblogged this on kgbethlehem and commented:
This poem, haunting piece here is what i can ponder on a relationship in heat but yet mystery of being real? No? Well read it yourself on this edition of Friday Night Poetry Corner Part B
It’s good. I might have to do one of these….. Well-written. What a beautiful form of poetry.
I thought so, too!
Great imagery, ‘morning squeezing between window slats…’ And I’ve learned a new word and form of poetry. Thanks!
My pleasure! Thanks for visiting!