morning blushes,
soft light begs entry
through the tiny cracks
in my window
I sigh,
not ready to greet the day
longing to return to that place,
that distant, starry place
in my dreams
where time and sense
are nonexistent,
and all that matters is you and me,
the pair of us
illuminated like an iridescent flame,
a warming glow that never fades
and never grows cold-
we dance till dusk
to the music of Sirius
under a canopy of glittering stars
until I am blushing,
every inch of me
like trees flowering in summer–
the dream weaver softly casts his charms
and I sigh,
…morning shall have to wait

Every new poem becomes my favorite.
Carole Ann
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