The Dream


The Dream

Last night I dreamt of you and wept
at fleeting visions as I slept.
Images floating through troubled sleep
awakened memories buried deep.
I lay within your sweet embrace
secure in the visions taking place.
Gentle kisses on fevered lips
and soft caresses of finger tips,
building in me a yearning deep,
a hunger that won't let me sleep.
All too soon the mists were gone
leaving behind the cold gray dawn
and tears that fell in silent dread
that knew the dream I dreamt was dead.

ęD.W. Rickard 2001