The Dean’s Office

.

There in the front worked an angel so rare

With pouting red lips and skin velvet cream

The sunbeams dance through her long golden hair

At night, she sings in my electric dreams

.

I can see it all, like an epic poem

Yes we build a love that will never die

Raise perfect children in our perfect home

And write our names against the starry sky

.

There’s just one wrinkle, how do I meet you

An amorous scheme takes hold in my mind

Writing to you of the girl I pursue

Here’s a description of she I would find

.

I have to meet her or I’ll die you see

Then reading my note you blush “this is me”

Wistful

Image by Barbara Bonanno from Pixabay

It is the home you made but can no longer enter

It is the lover that you can no longer kiss

It is the pain that you cannot undo

It is the scar that you cannot erase

It is the rapture you cannot reclaim

It is the mundane

It is the painful

It is the joyful

It is the life that you have expended

Never to recover

You are alone in your backward dreams

They are already dust