Friday, March 19, 2010


To him she was ambrosia,
Sweet to the taste and touch,
He couldn't shake her from his mind,
He loved her way too much.

Every night she was right there,
In all his many dreams,
The love they made made angels sing,
They were such wonderous scenes.

She wasn't there when he awoke;
It happened once again,
And so he dozed back off to sleep
To dream what should have been.

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