She dwells in poetic muse The lady of my dreams Tread softly, breathe only a little Lest the sound of your breath Wake her from her reverie
Neither time nor space Has meaning for her Like cotton clouds they pass over her But if you catch a glimpse of light in her eyes You'll see the rainbow there She dwells in oblivion, not knowing Her poem is so beautiful Many hold it in their eyes As if they were holding a baby
She knows not that my heart Speaks its own language And loves her - Still My heart's language - Quiet. Un-intrusive She can repose in tranquility Without being awakened from her poetic muse The lady of my dreams...
