Dreamwriter

Watch the sinews of the hand
that shapes the word.
that wields the pen so lightly
writing down the margins
of a world
that does not yet exist
to comfort me.
No romance,
sweet like honey,
no butter on my bread
to ease it down,
just words
that fill the throat,
the mind, to paint
a picture of perfection
dark eyes, long hair
a subtle smile that
curves fine chiseled lips
with kisses
just a breath away
from heaven
all magic in the making
of the dreams I write
each night
to ease the passage
into lonely day
where romance scurries
out of sight around the corner
tied to someone else's dream,
my nightmare on awaking.

poem by Midnight Clarity
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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