Sleep

[Mopkins]

Through a diaphanous gorge (this makes no sense do you mean diaphanous gauze?)
I slip upward into the fuzzy air, (air is fuzzy?)
floating in the direction of enticing whispers,
past a slipping silhouette of the
darkest persimmon red.
I graze the stubbled cheek of a young man whom I secretly adored
thus plunging (into) ecstasy (from) the smell of him
and I am slipping in this state of utter rest and tension
dreaming the harp,
I am the fifth string


Know nothing about music or harps so i could be missing some point you are trying to make,didn't make much sense to me but i don't read much unrhymed stuff. I did think the alliteration of S was does quite nicely done

Welcome to the site


Marianne