Dreamspace
Whose angel wings belong this feathered flight?
So delicate a foot, no shoe will find.
Moving so smoothly on the summers night,
graceful motions lift her upon the wind,
adrift, to light, a brief caress the ground.
Why does this gentle spirit share my space?
Illuminated memories abound,
tempering every dream that I embrace.
Would I this mortal doting specter trade,
for thoughtless nights in quiet peaceful sleep?
I would request her vision never fade,
allow my mind some sanity to keep;
if I must live until my final fate,
then, leave me this, with thoughts of her innate.
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