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spacer Reformation Recollected
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  Ravages of time can't touch you,
For you are a figment of my mind,
Encapsulated in my dream time
The door to which only I can find.
A wisp of pure imagination
That oft frequents my lonely heart,
A delight, my ow creation
A memory that cannot depart.
 
 

My mind's eye, espies your beauty,
Your dark brown hair, your smiling face.
Those supple limbs that move so lightly
Affording you your style and grace.
If I could reach out to touch you
Feel the warmth in your embrace,
It would cure me of this ague
Perhaps once more the world to face.

 
  The imagery I have created
Is as a reflection in a pool,
Once disturbed it shakes and shimmers
Then breaks into pieces, so miniscule.
Reforming only when all is quiet,
When trouble's banished from my mind.
It's in this aftermath of riot
That your reformation does spellbind.
 
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Copyright 2005 David Burt , all rights reserved
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