And in the dark I visualise <br />the utter beauty of her eyes. <br />I sweep from rose-kissed Roman cheeks <br />just like a teenager who peeks <br />to open fields past two small rises <br />well covered in their pink disguises. <br />I marvel at the smooth terrain <br />a small but pretty portwine stain <br />and soon arrive at sacred station <br />the final link of your creation. <br />And here I rest to gather strength <br />while dreaming of the road's own length <br />down to the valley of all treasures <br />where spirits come to gain their pleasures <br />Black shrubs obscure to foreign eyes <br />the tiny tears and plaintiff cries. <br />A clammy hand now squeezes mine <br />the time has come to taste our wine. <br /> <br />But wait, what is that piercing sound <br />it echoes round and round and round. <br />The hand belongs to my small mutt <br />who always wakes me, ('move your butt') , <br />I smile due to the dream's own power <br />and take a brief but icy shower.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/awakening-ii/
