Restless souls

Wake not on count of me.
Stop not your ardour
For mine is far away
I am here
Your head rests neatly on the pillow
Sweet breaths fall slow
Hair lies soft about your face
Your sleep is fine to see
Yet sleeps not your soul
It rests above your body
Looks far beyond the room
To see the one you seek
Restlessly you move and yet
Your soul looks on.
Comfort takes your heart
As a sight grips your soul
There they are, as close as you could wish
Beside you a restless soul looks on