Thursday, June 19, 2014

To Mare de Lis (Poem)

To Mare de Lis

The night runs silently
behind my windows.
I stare at my ceiling,
eyes wide,
feet fiddling.

I am thinking of you.

Are you sleeping?
I wonder.
What do you sleep about?
Do you sleep in pastels
and canvas and acrylic?
Do you sleep in brushes
and colors and white lilies?
Do you dream at all?
Do I take a peek at
 your dreams.

I dream of stars and travels.
Of children that where never mine.
Picket fences, moonlights
at la Puerta del Sol.
My pen besides your brush.
I dream of you.

I am thinking of you.

In my head
visions form anew.
That amazing expression of
pleasure and delight
you unwittingly call your smile
is forever burnt in my mind.
And your eyes...

I close my eyes and I see
flashes of you and me.


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