For Dream Is a Thing With Laces

For dream is a thing with laces That embraces the sheath with its linen fingers And caresses the surface down to the core Where pleasure perches and is ready to soar. And the laces mingle with gentle strokes of hope As the rainbow of colors sprinkles them with gold Then the fibers of bliss fabricated in the lyre Come strumming in gratefulness by the heart’s sweet desire.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2012

Poem

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