“A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” Oscar Wilde
And the Thunder moon whispered to me
I miss your soft lips and adoring eyes
come gaze upon my mercurial light
shimmering in the lonesome night.
Come bask in my cool calm caress,
I’ll share the dreams of our universe
We’ll talk until the pink rose of dawn,
and greet the magnificent vivid sun.
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Poetry begins with a lump in the throat