... an odd little offering, I know. :) Dawn

Poetic inspiration flows from his pen
and, by some miracle, hope rises
from her parched field heart
a million miles away.

Words spring forth from their shared dream
where like a river he meets her again, and,
like an endless spring, they grow
together though apart.

He approaches boldly
with three plates spinning, yet walks
slowly and softly, on tip-toe so as not to frighten her.
She never knows for sure if he intends to dance with her.
He loves her but is afraid to say so
and see another tear fall
forevermore,
forevermore.

Timid, but determined
to become bold, she shouts proclamations
of her truth into vases holding her verse. He never
knows for sure if she intends to place them in his hands.
She needs him but is afraid to say so
and hear laughter echoed
forevermore,
forevermore.

For now
they dance in dreams
and run like happy children,
unbounded and unafraid,
hand in hand, toward
the next time
they meet.