The Girl Acrosse the Fence

THE GIRL ACROSS THE FENCE There is a dream and she is real, and part of things I've always heard, here in my mind I sleep, but feel, the touching of her holy word; she's nothing more than morningl mist that drifts in with the early dawn, then fades away before she's kissed the pillow I've been dreaming on. She steals away that part of me that keeps me safe, secure, and sane; and if I knew who she could be, I'd shape her life, without her pain; though fences keep our worlds apart,, I'd raise her life to better things, that dream, I know, could be the start of more and better happenings; but she is gone, before I know -- just what, or who, or where, or when, to be, or not, or fade, or grow -- or if I'm dreaming now -- or then. © ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet