Fading Dreams

 A moonbeam floating on a whispered cloud
 Drifts where voices breathe of love untold,

 And there, this soul’s conviction remains
 The same as soft reflections from the stars.

 With it there my heart’s affection floats
 As soft suspended murmurs on the breeze.

 When wisps of dewdrops trickle in the dawn
 I feel the gentle touch of morning’s breath.

 It finds me here alone with my mind torn 
 From dream to reality in shreds of time,

 And soon my breath escapes in aching sighs 
 As fingers reach to grasp at fading dreams.



 march 2005
 Janet Reid