Dreamscape

In the debonair divine depths of my heart

I have a chamber locked fearing plunder.

owning an aureate amber treasure

that can't be risked in a reckless blunder.

Enviously enjoyably I watch her,

imaginably existent in my dreams

feels like a fabulous fanciful fairy,

floating freely in my thought streams.

In the realm of desirable dreams,

painters often fancy a fair face familiar.

Go and paint a colourful portrait,

commands my heart a careless cavalier.

When a tacit treasured smile,

evolves to be a main motivation.

Effortlessly earnestly eagerly,

it endears the entire dedication.

My heart bleeds umpteen colours

in melodic memoriam of my love,

these fingers are my quivering quills,

keep dipping damn deep in its cove.

In the primeval wicked wild woods

I ruefully roam looking for my mate,

a fecund fantasy favoured by heart,

on odds against ferocious feisty fate.

Her thoughts become the strings,

of the guitar of my heroic heart,

where a zillion harmonics readily rise,

creating a majestic masterpiece of art.

An unfathomed spirit so ferocious,

inarguably a malady so mysterious.

Lost in the thought this poet propitious

delightfully describes this art ambitious.

it is somewhat delusional that seems fair,

 an ecclesiastic alluring dreamscape so rare.

I must muster the musings to manifest the muse,

of devious delinquent dreams, I must be aware.