a poem for the new yEar

She Held My Hand

I dreamt last night she held my hand
and it was as if the world caught fire
though the conflagration grew she did not let go
and i beheld her
as she held my hand

She was a sun and my heart caught
in a timeless ring ~ ever pure and without end
the hairs upon my skin stood with new awareness
as i beheld her
her hand in mine

Her smile soft and contentedly pleased
opened windows long sealed curtained and dim
my heart like a box unlocked and opened at last
to behold her
and her hand in mine

Is there gold or honey left in the world
for all the sweetness and light of her pretty soft hair
or turquoise remaining for the blue in her eyes
as her i beheld
and her holding my hand?

The feel of her, the touch of her
the endless and momentary sense of knowing for true
no vision could more rival perfection
than the loveliness i beheld
she holding my hand


Do i think, do i dwell too much upon a dream?
or do i reach, eyes still filled with morning sands
        for flesh and blood? for her?

I must, or be a fool
For i dreamt last night she held my hand
and why should dreams not desire her as well?


ELAshley
123109.115826.6
As my muse she would be amused
should she ever read these silly lines