TENDRILS OF MY MIND
By: Eugene.
A tendril of
mist swirls about the trees.
Silence prevails, nary a sound is heard.
'Tis only the soft drip from the leaves,
an occasional rustle, the wing of a bird
I move in the ghostly silence, softly, quietly.
The veils of mist part, before me a clearing.
Trees all around me, gleaming wetly.
A movement in the mist, a twinge of
fearing.
In the mists before me, a wraith appears.
Softly, silently, like a changing of light.
I shy away, scared, filled with fears.
I stop and watch, ready for flight.
You appear from the mist, I can see you now.
Your golden hair, cascades of beauty
Your face so serene, no frown on your brow.
Your lips frame a smile, they welcome me.
I approach, not breathing, can it really be you?.
You near me, I hear no snap of twig.
I look into your eyes, they are a beautiful blue.
The forest is quiet, no rustle, no swish of
wing.
You are near me now, we can almost touch.
Do I see on your cheek a tear?
I hesitate, I lift a hand, your face to touch.
Just out of reach, but yet so near.
Your smile fades to sadness, it is a tear I see.
Your eyes so blue fade to grey,
Your beauty is for another, not for me.
You are not free, you cannot betray.
I lower my hand, I may not touch.
I blink my eyes, the mists to clear.
You are not there, nothing to touch.
Not mist in my eye, but a tear.
Before me no clearing, trees all around.
I met you only in my mind.
I return to reality, feet on the ground.
It was only tendrils of my mind.
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