Dreaming Of Her Poem by Leslie Alexis

She wears the silver dress – cut so low
His eyes and mind blindly follow
As she struts and bends her curves
She gently knitted him into love.

The morning they came in after four
The next day he cries of undying woe
For in his pockets she cut with blades
Now all his possession quickly fades.

For days and months he rooted his hair
But stuck within, it would not tear
He soon became a man with no soul
Because of trust, it and all she stole.

He sits at work and pines away
But he loves her - forever and a day
She means much more than wealth to him
And he’ll chance her again, on a whim.

Broken and wilted, like a prune,
He utters, “she’s coming home soon”
So he sits gazing at the opened door
For hours; many – twenty four.

The moon travels round - with no end
His broken desires never mend
And at the time and day of his death
He says he loves her, and has no regret.

Many call him a bastard and fool
Because to them he’s the woman’s stool,
But each time he would look above
And with grin say ‘It’s the way of love! ’

When his body was found in reeking bile
His face was covered with a smile
He died happy - dreaming of her
Maybe in that world they’re together.