I lie with you until you are asleep,
Ten minutes, twenty, thirty, often more,
Clocks tick, frustration builds, yet still I keep,
And stay with you on your side of the door.
Out there, my old life tempts, a voice cries, "Fail!",
And tells me there are better things to do,
Release: the world shrinks down, we both exhale,
And drift together, touching souls, we two.
In age, perhaps, you'll do the same for me,
And hold my papery hand, and stroke my hair,
You'll know the worth of love's proximity,
The gift we give by simply being there.
A final kiss, a sigh, a comfort deep:
I lie with you until you are asleep.
If sonnets about parenting peel your potato, see here for another: Sometimes I Pass the Place Where We Once Lived.