Dreaming Adventures

Sifting through piles of options and thoughts,
Titles telling things I don’t lament lost,
Coming across yours though, I pause and am still,
The girl in my dreams, though these dreams willingly fill –
My head when it’s not mine, a mind of its own,
As a young boy, a fantasy of adventures untold,
Monsters and demons, and strange friends and foes,
Always a new story, though one thing is slow –
To change; not at all, never would I,
The damsel in distress, who behind darkened eyes,
The blonde, no she’s not right, not fit for this part,
The one who fills, who takes my heart.

The same beginning, always for all time,
A disagreement, a fight, two characters defined,
But not such, not so, the two hardly could know –
That circumstances, always beyond their control,
Will soon have them spinning far and below,
Towards each other; though they both deny,
In the final scene, vindicated, this life, defined,
She always starts plain, intellectual, coy,
And some in some analysis, no doubt sponsored by Freud –
They’d tell you, this no one, this guy, this boy,
He’s really a lot like you, and he aims to persist,
Until the ends always, some time we have missed,
As the clock slows and stops,
And the time, she stands still,
In my own story, I move to distil,
This place we have come to, the time, it’s fulfilled,
So of course, some action, some heroic deed –
For only such things are fit for my dreams.

And the girl who was plain,
And the girl who was coy,
And the girl with the glasses,
Meets me as a boy,
And yes the fights come,
As they certainly must,
As without such things, no story is thus,
And when the crescendo rises, and no hope remains,
Together we stand, dirty and stained,
And the clouds they do open, a short pause and then,
From the sky the rain falls, and the ending is penned,
She runs to me holds me, our lives enfolded,
Tightly she clings, her form it is perfect,
And I know, this journey, this life, it was worth it.