Dear friend—though we’ve not shared three words in years—
Why would, in dreams, you plight your troth with mine?
Why, not yet awake, should I seek your hand?
Though you are, Lady, more than beautiful,
And shine with glory such that any man
Should be most proud to offer you his ring,
I can’t recall you visiting my dreams
Since we (if that was you) walked down the aisles
Of some vague grocery, indistinct and grey,
Your hand in mine—so why do I, here, now,
Dream fondly of you and, within the dream,
Request that gift that I dare not expect?
I began this late last week, after a strange-and-wonderful dream that prompted the question it asks, and finished it earlier this week when I finally got around to typing the fragment. The “earlier visit” referred to in the second half of the poem is described in my earlier poem “Walking down the grocery aisles of dreamland”.
I always welcome your comments, critique, suggestions (perhaps of a proper title for this poem?), or any other feedback on this poem or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you like it, if you don’t like it, if something “works”, if something “doesn’t work”, if it makes you think of something or someone, etc., please comment and say so!) If you like this, you can subscribe to this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday; you can also read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (or if that list is too intimidating, I’m posting more manageable subsets, like yesterday’s installment, each week, so you can just start with those); I’d particularly like to know which poems you think are my best.
This poem is also posted on my wiki.