Your image appears…
     through a purple-hued haze of silence
weaving its whispered magic spell
     while you re-connect the strings of my heart

You go about ******* my soul
     as I watch your image drift in my celibate reality
I witness the melody play its lonely tune
     But…
It is absent of the warmth of touch
     for it's only your image I see…
my heart's held hostage by the cry of the songbird

My unknown lover…
     kidnapped- by the makers of dreams and fantasies
experiencing the uncertainty
     of the child that lies sleeping deep within

Alone…
    with the clever artists of dreams and visions
encountering the forever of my loneliness
    brushing off blurred images of repeated memories
sleeping to be hugged-dreaming to be loved

Oh yes...
    I've dealt with kings, queens and dragonflies
in the dancing reverie of fragments of my reality
    gliding in and out of the dust of Heaven's stars
sprinkling me with their sweet purple dreams

They make their nightly visits into my fantasies, my thoughts...
    painted by the makers and weavers of dreams
Coming out of their secret, hidden places
    they silently reveal their amethyst, painted masterpieces
lightly kissed in dewy, lavender scented bliss
    softly swaddled in dream woven swathes...
of deep purple dreams of calico - and you