A Pleasant Longing
I loved a phantom; she loved me.
We lived, as happy as could be.
But then—oh, how my poor heart broke
When from my reverie I woke.
My minutes march, though years have flown,
With one undying undertone.
Though you may see me still the same,
My heart’s now haunted by a dream.
(My heart is haunted by a dream...)
Ed Morris, 2007
This page copyright © 2007 Edward A. Morris. Created October 16, 2007. Last updated October 16, 2007.