Going into my dreams
Meeting lovers from the past;
Glimpsing lovers in the future, lost
In a realm of forever goodbyes.
Basking in dancing hellos and kissing
Whiskered cheeks and mustached lips
Locked in long ago ecstasies
Of honeyed laughter and starry echoes
Lingering around old rendezvous
And almost forgotten trysts.
Maybe I’ll dream of home;
Sweet hay meadows and dark forests
With mossy, rooted paths
And wake up in my old room,
Smelling bacon and hot biscuits.
My old cat waking up young and agile
Springing off my bed from a good sleep
Racing me downstairs to breakfast.
I might like that dream better
Than that of past, present or future lovers.
