Oh your lovely dreams
hover close
pon your periphery
and spin in teasing circles.
Just close enough
to graze them each
with fingertips.
And well chewed lips
do not suffice
to resolve that issue.
Revolving scenes
of magic dreams
that wax and wain.
What bliss is pain
to watch them -
the tumult of the storm.
To know if you
could make one step
you might reach out
and take one firm to hand
to make it real for you.