I awoke this morning dreaming of her,
The dream that never goes away,
Even after all these years.
It is as persistent and inevitable as the coming of winter,
Which right now is clawing at my windows
With bony trees and moaning cold.
Sleep is dragging me back but the dream waits
Like a pink spider on a beautiful blossom.
The Dream

Love the delicate simplicity of this poem… the spider on the blossom gets me… the winter coming in at the window like the dream tap tapping, never giving up… what is the dream about one wonders… more poems please Bladewarrior!