The Dream
By: Allen Grim


Standing still I listen,
listen to the breeze.
It brings to me a whisper,
your voice above the trees.

Upon the wind your scent arrives,
A fragrance I know well.
It tells me you are nearer now,
that Haunting Musky Smell.

I see you move behind me,
Though I am all alone.
I feel your touch so softly,
and deep inside I moan.

In pale moonlight our do souls Dance.
Among the stars we Fly.
Than back to earth we travel
among the leaves to lie.

At dawn the sun awakes me,
alone among the trees.
I hear you softly calling,
in whispers on the breeze.

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