The Poet's Dream

The poet rested weary eyes
That read the heights and depths of sighs,
Compressed to redressed poetry,
Composed with utmost dignity...
The poet rested weary thoughts
More precious than a billion quartz,
More gracious than the stars above -
In contemplation of his love!
To him, she was the brightest star!
No matter where, both near and far!
To him, all dreams would lead to her!
His heart let nothing else occur!
Yet in this dream of dreams he knelt
Declaring all that Fate had dealt,
Confessing all in hopes to catch
The girl for whom he found no match!
She was 'THE ONE' who stole his heart
Who tore his simple world apart,
Who showed him nobler dreams to dream,
Who offered visions all supreme.
Now marriage seemed the only way -
With 'I LOVE YOU! ' the words to say!
Yet in his dream came no reply
And with her silence he could die!
No kiss occurred, no sweet embrace,
She gave no smile bestowing grace!
Though true romantic he must lose
For none can wed The Mystic Muse!
That's why male poets pine forlorn
In dreams of her... until the dawn...

by Denis Martindale

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