a six verse poem

From birth to the grave
His heart not behaved
The blood a two way stream;
Her hand is to his
Like a three-fold kiss
And she is but a vivid dream

What smiles have we
That others don’t see
While the moon, it casts its beam;
To the light of her eyes
Full of beauty but wise
When she is but a stolen dream?

I look at her now
And ask myself how
How can our fire not gleam;
Thy subtlety noted,
And my odd way quoted
oh yes, “she is but a dream”

But she is real to me
How else could it be?
When we met, my world not serene;
Her feet on the ground
They do make a sound
As if coming forth from a dream

The taste of her lips
A sweet solar eclipse
A chalice of great Hippocrene;
The drink of the gods
Will defeat all odds
Of caging my sweet nymph in a dream

As she enters this world
My deep waters swirled
But damned is my existence it seems;
She hears my voice
Then makes an alternate choice
Damn her and her loveless dreams.