Andrew D Robertson
I was wandering down the street one day when my eyes fell upon the most exquisite sight: An angel was in the midst.
She was gliding through a throng, oblivious to all the averting heads, and then she was gone. She may be gone, but her beauty and my wonder remain.
Yesterday, I saw her again, gliding smoothly towards me, but this time, she didn't vanish right away. I've been fantasizing about this beautiful angel for quite a long time, yet it seemed different this time. It seemed real, somehow.
She stopped feet from me and held out her hand. I froze. 'This had to be a dream, ' I thought. 'It just had to be.' I pinched my arm. Nothing.
She smiled and embraced my hand. Her hand was warm and soothing. Her voice was gentle, content and mesmerizing. 'You're not dreaming, Silly. You've wanted this for a long time now. Come to me.'
I tried to smile, but instead, I felt my mouth twist into something unfamiliar to me. 'Y-Y-You, ' I stammered. 'I-I've been dreaming of you for as long as I can remember. How could this be? ' 'Kiss me, ' she replied, 'and all will be answered.'
Well, I know her better than any woman I've ever met, and I don't even know her name. I moved in for the kiss, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly, I was shaking stubbornly and the woman of my dreams began to fade away, then everything changed.
I wasn't outside or in a crowd. Rather, I was lying in my bed, which was still shaking. 'That, ' I exclaimed, 'was the most vivid and dream I've ever had! I can still smell her perfume. (sigh) I can still feel her pulse.'
As it turns out, I wasn't the only one shaken awake this morning. Just another earthquake. I showered, dressed and headed off to work with this angel in my head. I turned a corner and joined a throng of people on their way to work. It was then that I saw her. Her beauty was undeniable. She was gliding towards me, like an angel, then she turned a corner and was gone.
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Comments about this poem (The Daydreamer by Andrew D Robertson )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- I cant see you but I know you there, yolandey breedt
- Like an old-fashioned tradition, Kamini Arichandran
- Where are we?, Pintu Mahakul
- Gazing up the sky, Seira LNlee94
- no one has ever done good without....., RIC S. BASTASA
- the night deepens, RIC S. BASTASA
- to begin with....., RIC S. BASTASA
- who is someone in your mind?, RIC S. BASTASA
- try sipping this, RIC S. BASTASA
- the reason why i am still a part of you, RIC S. BASTASA