Carmel Lois Was A Dream, Still A Dream And A Dream No Longer

A seemingly eternal discourse

With a rare soul judged unreachable—

‘Enough as an ethereal source

Of emotions inexplicable

Thoughts of her stayed undaunted for weeks

My heart set to love, my mind negates

Therefore, I sought solace—an ill fix—

To hold soundness in normalcy’s gates

In my steadfast hopes, I found relief

But not death of a confounding dream;

She bewildered my thoughts, bound me stiff

Hid longings were unbowed it may seem

Albeit strange, the upshot turned ‘round

‘Talked in words but heard our hearts’ sole sound

Though quite unbeknownst to each other,

The wonted exchange wafted farther

Farther than my psyche ever reasoned

With its soupçon of morose wishes;

‘Driven to be deeply impassioned,

My calloused core quit its wintriness

Now her redolence ever lingers

My wits file a portrait of her face

Her smooth hands oft felt in my fingers

The air evokes the charm of her ways

She was my dream—procured, as I’d deem

Gratification that transcends par

Sprang from desire, founded on esteem

Embellished with bliss made from afar

She is still my valued dream—ne’er quenched

Detained by outlook’s obscurity

The vilest squalls won’t leave its fire drenched

‘Tis bound by passion’s security

She is also a dream no longer—

My every day’s gist sent from above

Epochs may hastily change over

Yet eons would envision my love

Missed

Jacarandas dream of their purplish blooms

Stars are wished in places where darkness looms

Mountains cry for greens when destroyed by goons

Freeways are wants of the orbited moons

Winters make trees wish that they are not bare

The rafflesias ask for a scent that’s fair

Oases are longed in each desert square

Some fishes perhaps dream of surface air

Amidst the chaos, the world shouts for peace

Poverty hopes for a heavenly kiss

Fresh air is longed for by the urban crowd

Serenity missed in a place that’s loud

All creation have desires unattained

But to what they’ve missed, steadfast they’ve remained;

Even the world of lies dream for what’s true

So do I miss you, as much–I miss you…

Just as water is wanted bad in lands—

Cursed and dry as the Atacama sands,

Same is the torment that dwells in my heart;

You’re missed when truth sets in that we’re apart