Dreams Linger
Sol slowly rises, and virgin flames paint
the horizon, a blaze of burnt orange.
And beams of sunlight pierce slumbering eyes,
lighting a kaleidoscope of motes.
Magic exists between dream and awake,
conjuring bursts of pulsating colors.
And reality's thus intangible,
reduced to abstracts on a field of black.
Darkness retreats at the approach of Dawn,
and Sol ascends as master of the sky.
And yet, I am forced to avert my eyes,
for His face is too bright to gaze upon.
Seconds stretch as time is held motionless,
and dreams linger within this fantasy.
And as I awake to the day's rebirth,
molten gold gilds the far fringes of night.
(Blank Verse)
9/11/2017
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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