Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Sunday, March 18, 2012

Tethered Dream


It doesn't always turn out the 
way you had hoped...

I thought about the treasure
and it held no silver nor gold,
for it is the gems of happiness,
that the stories of life are told.
The heart can't be so wrong as
to not identify the magic of love,
but it is through recognition that
heartache meets with sorrow.

If I could rearrange the stars,
and string them across the sky,
I'd write the words of love to
bridge your gentle heart to mine.

If I could take the clouds and
pack them full of dreams, I'd
send them over the mountains,
to deliver my love by spring.

... to be touched, to be held, to be loved,
I don't see any alternatives.

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