Delicious dreams sweeten the early morning hours before glorious dawn
Like pieces of candy melting on my tongue,
Showing me irresistable visions of a thing that I can't have.
A blissful fantasy of hidden desires that I cannot escape,
Nor do I fully know that I'd want to if I could.

You fill my dreams with visions that even I do not like to speak out,
For the weight of sweetest memory remains too heavy on my shoulders.
The memory of a summer's kiss, under beautiful heavens,
Upon lips that yearn now for that very warmth.

Has something been left unfinished?
Why does calling you put butterflies in my stomach,
As if I was a little girl witha secret crush?
Why do you still carry my picture in your wallet?
Why do visions of your love fill my dreams at night?
Why does reading the love letters that you wrote me,
So long ago,
Make me miss you so much more than they probably should?
When shall my soul find peace,
Away from the memory of the feeling of your strong shoulders,
far from the vision of your soft, beautiful eyes?

What I feel deep down, I dare not say,
For hope and fear that it might come true.

Reluctantly, I admit to these forbidden thoughts,
And speak the unspoken desires that burn at my breast,
The things that now exist but in my dreams,
And in long distant memories, still crystal clear in my mind-
Sweet kisses under rainbow lights,
The distant echoes of a certain song playing on the radio,
And the way that your fingers caressed my hungry body,
Causing me to feel things that I had never felt before,
Things that would never feel do good again.

I was but a child then, experiencing love as a child.
Then, it did not work,
Our futile attempt to grasp at something that neither of us could explain failed,
Time's arrow and distance's reach kept us apart.

Now, in deep personal moments, when I am alone in darkness,
I sometimes like to think that it would work now, between us.
I relive the naive dreams of my childhood,
And see things as they could be, if only...
And I float here in this surreal tide between
Agony of the heart and ecstasy of the spirit.

To hold onto one's dreams is to live,
To lose one's dreams is worse than death.
I choose to hold onto you, and to hope that
Perhaps someday we will finish this unfinished symphony of our hearts,
To take back what we held dear in our youths, so long ago.

S. Schultz
9-99