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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1426031
A poem to the woman who did not exsist at the time I wrote it.
I wonder as I sit to write
What art thou doing tonight?
Art thou warm?
Art thou comfortably, engaged,
in thought of me?
Oh how I wish thou couldst see
Thine visions mine head plea.
Tis wonderful indeed,
Thy future of you and me.

Meadows stretched worlds abroad,
Abode built of cabin log.
Carefree youths in dance and song,
A dog is there and plays along.

Soundless nights of Summer's caress,
I in tie and thou in dress,
Embraced, in love, and togetherness.

Planned is eternity,
Thine fate and destiny,
Tis wonderful indeed,
Thy future of you and me.
© Copyright 2008 DiMaggio (dimaggio at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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