Dream Girl

I dream, the most, at dawn: the witching hour,
when skies may shed a sweet, autumnal shower.
And silence is serene, as yet unshattered,
like sleeping leaves, by falling feet unscattered.

I dream in black and white and rarely colour.
And you may say that greyscale is far duller
than pigment, though, I think, it's overrated,
and monochrome will never be outdated.

I dream, but it’s no psychopath’s delusion.
For fate sometimes can force fantastic fusion
of lovers lost; who’ve long-since left lamenting;
in dreams, we see their hearts and souls cementing!

And yes, I am derided for my dreaming;
cruel cynics say that I am really scheming,
to bring a certain dream girl back to life,
the girl I lost, who now is someone’s wife!