Late upon this Monday Night
Out of the corner of my eye
I could have sworn
I spied your form
Waifting across my thoughts
As a ghost upon the floor.
I wondered how
You had arrived;
I wondered if
You had thought of me;
And most of all, I wondered
If you still want me?
Till in the fullness of the late hour
I rose to attend my bed
Half hoping to find
You there waiting for me.
I shamed myself from
Such trivial thoughts
Unbecoming of man
Totally in control
Of his imagination!
But then I opened the door
To spy a form
Wrapped in my blankets
Upon my bed
And your voice calling to me
"Lascavyia, come to bed.
I need you to hold me."
Never will I doubt the
Power of dreams again.
