Northern Star
It was a dream to pleasant,
I never thought it more.
A bitter-sweet illusion,
One I am loathe to adore.
Corkscrew curls ablaze her facade,
An untamed beauty imperfect and near.
Our gazes locked the whispers began,
Her countenance my courage her closeness I fear.
My towering presence a mere hair distant,
She recoiled at the intimacy a wall too proud.
I strike it down with bravado anew,
My arms embrace her defenseless shroud.
'Do you know me', she whimpers pressing my chest,
'Intimately and not at all', I cry in response.
'I have slept on the thorny bed of loneliness,
traversed burning coals of heartache,
weathered the unyielding tempest of emptiness,
to look upon you.'
Caution abandoned she takes up hope,
A word upon her lips I'd learn with my own.
It is a quick thing and yet the slowest,
Her warm affections to my lips have flown.
It was a sweet dream and a sweeter truth,
For I look upon my other no longer afar.
It was a sweet dream as dreams are thus,
For she is my bearing, my Northern star.