A child’s daydreams;
They come, then, go,
They crystalize,
Then melt, like snow.

The young child plays;
She knows no troubles,
Her daydreams drift,
Like clouds of bubbles.

Her life, so simple now,
No stress, no strife,
May this remain so,
The whole of her life.

She lives in my daydreams,
stealing me from reality,
from the one that looks like her,
that is her.

The place where reality and hope cross paths

You are the moon in my sky
A constant reminder
Of what I couldn’t possibly have
Without risking everything.
You make me want to change
As my tides abide by your influence,
But you come closer
And push away just as easy,
Just as often.

I want you to stay,
For I am not the one keeping you there,
I’m a mere light on the side of the road,
And tell me, my dear,
How can a streetlight illuminate the moon?
But I can’t help myself from staring
When you show yourself
No matter how close to
Or far away,
A smile takes over my face.

I wish to hold you,
And have you by my side,
Even if it brings chaos and destruction.
I’m drawn to you like gravity
So fly out of reach,
And stop this dance you have with me,
Or give me a chance,
And allow me to show you
What it means
To be infinite.

Afternoons are for self-indulgence.
All other pursuits are inadvisable
(they usually end in tears,
or never get off the ground).
Lethargy and sleepiness prevail.

But if you give in to the whims
of the subconscious,
take off all your clothes
and get back into bed,
stare at the branches moving gently
     outside your window,
Then, then all the magic of
     the universe is at your disposal.
The journey has just begun
into a clover leaf or out
  to the far reaches of the
   galaxy and beyond.
To dream in the afternoon
  is the utmost pleasure.