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Mystery of my dreams
by Kristle Lynne Munker

 	If it were but a fond caress
 	   Without desire for faithfulness
 	If it were but a kissed embrace
 	   No search for truth upon his face
 	And hunger hid, not in my heart
 	   Like dried up tinder, a flame to start
 	Then i would run to him in haste
 	   Not seeing or caring, his soul unchaste
 	His heart not my goal, my life, my symbol
 	   And yet to hear him... my senses tremble
 	A willing victim to his schemes
 	   For he is the mystery of my dreams
        
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Poem ID: 6954   Poem Posted: 8/21/1998
Viewed: 19489  Voted On: 245  E-mailed: 79  Commented On: 3
 
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Copyright , 1998, Kristle Lynne Munker  all rights reserved by the author.
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