to each moment
passed
another dream of
soft mornings
shared so secretly
arises
tickling the nape of my neck
as if it were the white linen
we cocoon ourselves in
early prisms of the morning
ah but to hold you,
yes that is
true bliss
and to wake with you
dreaming must i be
The dreamiset of love poems to a fortunate lady, this speaks in it's spaces as well as it's lines. Thank you for smoothing my early morning with a honeyed sandwish of phrase Wade.