I Dream Poem by Harlequin Rose

Wisps of her hair fall victim to carelessness
intentional misfit
she, who lets beauty flourish
with such ripeness
yet lay dormant and dark
beneath sober solitude
in eyes the color of
sun-warmed sand
I dream...
and in my dream
a smile blurs the edges
with blinding child-like joy
hers is a smile worth dreaming about
worth screaming about
from the rooftops and bell towers
but her heart lies elsewhere
on the Western banks of the Arno
I think
among the silt and soot
in the hands of a Venetian suitor
and so I dream
I dream myself a new foundation
on which to stand
so that I may move mountains...
for her.