Prancing amid my dreams - desiring what’s not there.
My thoughts are running rapid, and I’m getting nowhere.
My mind indulges in the pleasure of seeing a soft smile -
Fancying warm, blue eyes bright with acceptance.
A deep, lulling voice humming in my ears,
circulating through my veins, fighting all my fears.
The arms of comfort never felt so cloy.
I muse at these insuperable thoughts I can’t destroy.
Winter is absent in my dreams, driven out by the warmth of this fire.
My ardent thoughts are like the pocket of an old winter coat of desire.
And yet, winter is present in actuality.
No kind smiles. No illustrious eyes.
No soothing voice to hear. No comfort - far or near.
Oh, how I wish these thoughts would become real for me!
But it’s as if they sit there, arms folded, and look down quietly.
I’m lying to myself; I say they could be right.
And though it’s not okay, I just don’t mind tonight.