by Father
I have, upon occasion Spent empty nights alone No cars or television Not even a telephone Just thoughts of celebration Pulled from shelves of long ago Dusted memories reappearing Like newly fallen snow And in the clouds of this confusion Events are warped and redefined Reality painted blindly On connecting dots of the mind And you, still with your beauty Stand shining with such light Youth guarding like a gargoyle The entrance to the night And passion fills my heart again And I see what I want to see I hear the sounds I never heard I feel love that will never be For dreams are exaggeration Of what was or what was not And somewhere in the middle The truth is firmly caught But dream on if you may And dream on if you must For in the end we're all the dreams Of God's great Wonderlust