I see your face in my dreams again,
In sleeping hours, in twilight thoughts,
Where shadows dance a muted waltz,
That hinders hopes and stifles doubts.
I hear your voice in my dreams again,
In whispered breaths, in shadows cast,
Where sonnets tell of tales of woe,
Of what we had and what has past.
I hold your hand in my dreams again,
In feathered touch, in heated feel,
Where skin is burned beyond the pale,
And flames that dance in passion’s zeal.
I kiss your lips in my dreams again,
In honeyed oak, in ripened berry,
Where taste ignites a fervent need,
As battle rage and scruples worry.
Morning breaks I know not when,
But in my dreams we’ll meet again.