She is beautiful when she dreams
Dreams of yesterday, dreams of tomorrow
Soft smoky dreams of places far, times long past
Hard, wanton dreams of blood and steel
And dreams of misted green fields
wrapped in the scent of a spring morning
Cloud shrouded dreams of mountaintops
Caressed by gentle sunny breezes
Dreams of the milky moonlight
Wrapped about the night like stark lace
Passionate dreams of love and laughter
The taste of hot skin and warm tears
Desirous dreams
Of life, of meaning, of fulfillment
Dreams of romance that make her eyes shine
Dreams of lust and adventure that make her glow
I see her reposed, dreaming her dreams
White as ivory, fine and chiseled
Eyes closed, lips full, peaceful and content
She is beautiful when she dreams.
Yes, that last one was too much of a downer to end a Friday with so I posted this old thing.