Passions and Dreams
Like a sweet dream, often glimpsed rarely seen.
You floated into my sight, and I was tempted beyond right.
Impossible it seems, this sweetest of dreams.
Filled with pure dread at the reality that will be said.
Still, I cannot deny what I feel.
A girl so cute it burns, over coals the spit turns.
I roast in my passions, while time marches in it’s fashions.
From the first moment seen, flames stoked to light the dream.
How I feel really isn’t right, but I am addicted to your sight.
No matter the pain of the dreams when impossible it seems.
Fear preventing words being said, desire overcome by dread.
To feel all this, and the tongue always remain still.
The wheel ever turns, and still my heart yearns and burns.
Rain pouring in it’s fashions, storms raging like my passions.
Words to remember the dream, hope dancing it is seen.
My brain filled with your sight, morning, noon, day, night, left, right.
No matter how it seems, you are the sweetest of all my dreams.
For all the dread, all the words left unsaid.
My heart beats faster still, quaking at the depths of what I feel.
Blaze me with your eyes I don’t mind the burns, the pain is worth the unending turns.
Eaten alive by my passions, while the world comes and goes in it’s fashions.
Books of Poetry and Stories: