Okay this has one or two embarrassing moments, ("Burne-Jones nose" - what was i thinking?) but i used to write a lot about the female form in the dawn light. So this short ditty evokes a time, a person and some aurora reverie which still retains an undergraduate charm. 

A Dream About Sally 

I glance across, mid-night,

And catch your olive-limbed lankness,

Eyelids shut hard on daytime despairs,

Teeth wink in the darkness.

Sleepy-vague sphinx

Hold tight my hand

And, though I've scratched

My last valentine in the sand,

I know that, as those light shards

Stripe your Burne-Jones nose,

And cross pillows to discarded clothes,

I don't need to understand.