Calm, unmoving, silent,
you are still.
Sitting, patient, waiting,
you are still.
I still envy the stillness
that you possess.
There are always the haves
and the have-nots.
I once thought I was a member
of the have-nots,
but I had not considered
that I do have you.
I am the girl that is called a fool,
the ever hopeful dandelion.
I am the dreamer, the feeler, the lover.
The girl that dances with the moon
and colors outside of the lines?
Yes, she is me and I am her.
I'll shake your hand and
smile warmly at you
because it is so great to meet you,
but we both know that true meetings
happen later when our souls
finally say hello to each other.
A projection of pure light
crackling with energy
and waves of happiness,
you are almost too good to be true.
If I did not know better,
I'd think you were some sort of hologram.
I live my life,
but I feel it, too.
Emotions are my life blood
and you, my dear,
are keeping this darling girl
alive.
Something kind of silly that I did. I went through a couple random articles and plucked out the fifteenth word in a paragraph, then wrote a piece of this poem based on that word (or at least fit that word in there). Those words were still, have, her, meet, hologram, and feel.