Where do Dreams Go
He dreams
yes he dreams
of sage and of leather
Of her image
reflected in mirrors
and in the fire of cabochons
He dreams
yes he dreams
of floating and flying with her
Somewhere lost
without wanting, or wishing
to be found, until they are dust
He dreams
yes he dreams
of the things they might do together
In the snatches
of time made in moments
they allow to quietly break through
He dreams
yes he dreams
of bergamot, sage and of leather
While tenderly stroking
a breast with a feather and milking
the juice of yet another new day with her
He dreams
yes he dreams,
but where do those dreams go
Maybe lost in the ether,
mid vastness of quilt perhaps, or
buried neath mountainous pillows of snow ..