My Name Escaped Me
My name escaped me just this summer past,
In crispy twilight air with lilac breath;
Soft Monet breeze discovered, beauty’s last,
A hollow season now, vanilla death;
An unrhymed Shakespeare sonnet wintry still
Whose lines compare me to a fallen sun,
Not William, though, appears, nor even Bill,
When I do look upon where should be one;
Leapt through an open window near my bed,
While slumber held me under dreamy weight;
A nightmare heard from voices quickly fled,
Un-chased ‘til Autumn stirred this dreamer late;
But more than all and why now I’m ashamed,
Is fear which keeps away my love so named.
Written on my 34th birthday
9/24/2016
Copyright © Phillip Garcia | Year Posted 2016
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