Written at dusk on a Restday eve.
She came to me cloaked in winter's white -
Flowing past with enchanted grace;
(It was like a dream)
Haloed with gold about her face,
Eyes starry pools of living light -
(It had to be a dream)
Silent and lovely, like a springtime morn,
I felt her gaze enfolding me;
(It must be a dream...)
Our souls locked in love, set thereby free;
In passion's whirlwind, beloved storm...
(It could not possibly be real.)
And I woke up.
I awoke to the ash of my waking fantasies,
Dream's poetry fled as an uncaged bird.
And she was not there; nor would ever be.
Oh, Goddess -
(But to which goddess did I plead?)
(Winter's Lady, or to her?)
I have been so lonely for so long.
All the terrible years,
Pouring out love to all in a rushing torrent,
The gap left behind not filled, never filled.
Oh, my sweet heart's lady,
Would I could walk in love with you;
Feel your lips against mine,
Feel your touch drive back the aching deadly dark...
To have you come to me in winter's white -
Sharing with you a waking dream;
(And I fell asleep once more)
Radiance-crowned, my heart's true queen,
Let me drink you in with my dying sight...
(The twilight princess of my fantasies - )
(May I dream so forever...)
(Please, dear Goddess, please - I beg you - )
(Let me dream of her forever ...)