12 Thursday Jul 2018
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I dream of being with you
Of meeting you at the point where hills heel and mountain tops touch the snow
I dream of waking next to you
At the hour past last light and the second between the sun’s rise and its highest crest
I dream of dancing with you
Under stars lit with sodium fire and doused in reflective coal
I dream of touching you, of being touched by you
Skin against the melting hues of all I dreamed and hoped you could be
If only you were real.
(C)2018. WordsBySM
09 Sunday Apr 2017
Posted in Poetry
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Walking through these pages
These writs that tell a story fairly unknown
Cutting through time zones and high plains
Landing on firm soil, gazing up at blue skies
Searching high for confirmation that angels do fly
In my dreams while traversing the seas
They would swoop down low on coloured wings
Cradling the children that fell through the night
They would erase the weariness the pain and their plight
Seeking to restore life after a lunatic’s vaulted blight
In wakeful hours as I scroll through the screens
I realise my dreams materialise, just not as I fantasise
These angels they look eerily like me with their absent wings
Suddenly a path is carved out wildly divergent to what’s passed
And the chills from my travels are wiped out at last
~SM © 2017
