Where Dreams Come True

A rhapsody of emotion's

are my words that you see

my words are not poetry

they are the voice that  I set free

I might draw a painted picture

in this manuscript I’ve wrote

finding the pages

that’s deep inside my thoughts

and lay them on empty sheets

that so often scare me

I know my life is not complete

nor perfect is my poetry

a photograph once captured

through a lense without a focus

on a landscape that I pictured

..that had a soothing chorus

that played that melody

to which you and I had danced

surrounded by the distant sea

on the tide of  a new romance

where music’s played on the promenade

‘neath the shadows where  the gas lights glow

that’s echoed from the old church yard

with ringing bells that may toll

this frantic illustration

is a walz that I have seen

creating a creation

that I often dream