I Dream

Dreams come, when they come –
They drum like marching drums,
-sometimes.
My hands are cold sometimes –
when I hold her,
hold that woman I don’t know
but wish that I did –
in awake life,
which is sometimes better.
sometimes not.
She is so warm, so soft –
in my dreams.
She holds me because I am,
not because I say,
or think, or do –
or look this way – or that.
Her love is not for that –
or for marching drums
or for tit for tat.
I do not need to be Clark Gable,
or Cary Grant or tiny kitten cat –
She holds me for one reason,
which is simply that –
I am.

And so I fly in my dreams…..

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© 2015 John Allen Richter
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About johnallenrichter

I am an aspiring Poet and adorer of life, a conqueror of nothing. However I am a champion curator of truth and friendship and hold both of those things most dearly to my heart. Welcome to my mind's eye. I hope you will enjoy what you may find and please know that you have a friend here. View all posts by johnallenrichter

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