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Tuesday, November 20, 2012


 By morning my quill rewrites fate
The ink becomes reality’s script
Wishes are wings that lift us to heights
Adrift in a world of yesterday’s dream
Above the oceans that once stood between us
My breath turns to wind that teases your hair
As solemn whispers caress your heart
Letters of wonder become whispers of love
Buried desires evolve into dance
Passionate sighs become tender kisses…

Tomorrow we dance arm in arm…

...the wait is over...

…only if…my quill was a god…

© Nov 20, 2012 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
NOTE: photo courtesy of PL

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