Your image appears...
through a purple-hued haze of silence
weaving its whispered magic spell
while you re-connect the strings of my heart
You go about undressing my soul
as I watch your image drift in my celibate reality
I witness the melody play its lonely tune
But...
It is absent of the warmth of touch
for its only your image I see...
my heart's held hostage by the cry of the songbird
My unknown lover...
kidnapped- by the makers of dreams and phantasies
experiencing the uncertainty
of the child that lies sleeping deep within
Alone...
with the clever artists of dreams and visions
encountering the forever of my loneliness
brushing off the blurred images of repeated memories
sleeping to be hugged-dreaming to be loved
Oh yes...
I've dealt with kings, queens and dragonflies
in the dancing reverie of the fragments of my reality
gliding in and out of the dust of Heavens stars
sprinkling me with their sweet purple dreams
They make their nightly visits into my phantasy, my thoughts...
painted by the makers and weavers of dreams
Coming out of their secret, hidden places
they silently reveal their amethyst, painted masterpieces
lightly kissed in dewy lavender scented bliss
softly swaddled in dream woven swathes of purple colored calico...
And you
