you come with me into dreams
o lover of fleeting moonbeams
and live such stories as though
could never be, for each tomorrow
might pass within an opaque night
to grant fulfilment, yet never see light
or true nature of day, what might be
where images have colour and free
still, the pastel grey is your kiss
perhaps of forever, should not remiss
with whispers to conceal beyond
this heaven, as powerless to respond
so welcome here, o celestial reflection
and illuminate this elusive recollection
©2008 Hey Hey
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