My husband waits
Asleep in bed
His hand supports
His weary head.
His body cries its need of rest,
Still another need
Lies in his breast.
This need shall be aroused in me
When I slip beside him quietly.
I’ll take his head upon my breast
And though he has a need for rest
His ardour will become a flame
He will call his wife by my own name.
And when his passion is all spent
He’ll fall to sleep, be heaven-sent.
And this new rest
Will fell his head
Upon his pillow – soft yet firm.
And I will have had my need of him.