Dreams Too Sweet
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I woke to thrumming heartbeats, early morn,
The flavor, you, still sweet upon my tongue,
With lasting sways of passion, felt and born,
As all such dreams of you are gently wrung.
We'd met beneath a swollen summer moon -
A soft-sand beach, and just a touch of sin,
I swam with you a lake of starlight, strewn,
And tasted drops of moonlight from your skin.
That endless night of passions carried on,
Our bodies merging like a hand and glove,
A dream of ecstasy that scorned the dawn,
Lost deep within the maelstrom of our love.
Now trickle tears upon love's passing pall,
For truth be known, it was no dream at all.
~ Honorable Mention ~ in the "Strand Special 8, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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