Poems To A Woman From A Dream

1
i ask your name.
you spell it out with your fingers
across my cheek before you leave.

it is midnight
& i cannot sleep.

in the morning
i pick flowers in the rain
& place them in a vase
on my kitchen table.

somehow, i believe,
you will be smiling, in knowing.

that smile is my afternoon sunshine.

2
you tell me,
the rain bothers you -
that it mats your hair
& takes the luster from your eye shadow.

i tell you,
it makes you look
like the Madonna at my door seeking refuge.

3
a dozen yellow roses
to match the ribbons in your hair.

the courier seemed annoyed
at my insistence they be delivered
at precisely 3:30 this rainy afternoon,
but he obliged when i paid his fee.

it was not necessary for him to understand
there were dreams i was placing
between your thin & elusive fingers.

4
the moon is full tonight
(much as your eyes)
illuminating the uncertainty of my dreams.

i do not know
if it is the truth i seek in them
or the mysteries.

still, let us walk this crooked path
of romance until we discover
something of fate or destiny
that will not allow us to continue.

© Kenn Mitchell
11-5-01