Night after night when the world seems silent
I dare to escape in a series of notes and rests
in hopes I might be able to find myself
once more among the songs long forgotten;

the ones I dedicated to you.

Its not a real piano, like the one I always wanted
as a young girl, but a rolled out key board
good enough to pretend the way they taught me to
so very long ago. The way you used to do
on those nights the rain came down and sleep could
not over come me no matter what we tried.

Songs gone unheard for so much longer than
any work of art ever should, memories arisen
after hours of being suppressed, I lose myself
in a series of notes and rests long forgotten
as I dare to play the songs I love;

the ones I dedicated to you.

The life of a poet is difficult
ups and downs, dark and light
so many things misunderstood;
but who's to claim wrong or right?

I wish I could tell you
that I lived a life like that
but something makes me think
I am far from ready for that.

Rhymes are no quick and
metaphors and similes dont stick
like glue to paper with thoughts in mind
because rhythm always gets me sick.

The life of a poet is not for me
I cannot write, I don't know
the tricks and skills like you;
poetry just isn't my show.

Love newly admired, freshly shown
something only for those used to
such an acquired taste;
hidden for months on end
slowly aging for the best effect
like that of a fine wine.

Just waiting for it's chance to
Shine.

A moment we've anticipated
enthusiastically, the way
shooting stars long for the rare
solar eclipse allowing them
a moment alone on
the brilliant stage.

The way people depend on a job's
wage.

Waiting as it seams we must
may seem slow and endless
though angels giggle
for they know what's in store
and daemons emanate rage
for even they cannot deny.

Somehow I feel pride that we'll see
the day we want to live as the sun
awaits Day to pass on loving blessings
to the future bride.

As ready as I am for our day
to meet, to be, to thrive,
so  I can call you mine
maybe we should put the bottle
back on the shelf to ensure
a beyond perfect
age.

So many people missed out
on knowing who you were
and that amazing person
you could be; even after
the accident...

I didn't know you at all
until today, walking through
a city I've never been to
with my dad; he's the one
that knew you...

We met your mom sitting at
her kitchen table with your
little brother; he still wears the
peace ring you gave him right
before Time took you...

Mommy told us stories about you
on the phone when she and dad
were still together. The way your
family did when they let us see your
final picture and memory book...

Dad saw the box of letters
from your nieces when you left;
he added a little piece of metal
with a shark. We know you loved
marine biology and Donald Duck,
but we forgot that
until just now...

I know this won't mean much
since you knew my dad in
college and he didn't even know
my mom; let alone want kids;
but I wish I had the time to
meet you...

Everyone seemed to love you,
and for good reason too; I am
just sorry I was never on the list.
Even though I admire all the
things they told me about you...

Anyway, I just thought if anything
you would have a way to read
this, and if you did you should know
Jeff misses you, and we do too...

Before you let sleep take you
tonight, I have to ask one thing
of you;

Please Love, would you
lull me to sleep
tonight, Love.
Lull me somewhere deep
tonight, Love.

Hold me safe and close
tonight, Love.
Tell me we have purpose
tonight, Love.

Lull me to sleep
tonight, Love.
Give me hopes to keep
tonight, Love.

And if you cannot do that,
would you please;

Soothe me of that
which goes unseen,
soothe me of that
we hear each scene.
Soothe me of the pain
drowning me in sorrow,
soothe me of the thoughts
keeping me from tomorrow.

Please my Love,
soothe me of that
which keeps me from sleep
tonight in any way you can.

Because I miss you so
much not even these
tears make me weak enough
to sleep alone tonight in
this unkind bed.

I know its a name
That I gave myself,
But it seemed to fit
Oh so well.

Others don't seem to
Get it, they like to joke;
But they don't know me
So they're just rude.

I call myself adreamer
Because that's exactly
What I do,; I wish and I
Hope, I dream and I dream.

Of the life I want to
Have and the world
I wish we were in,
It makes me happy.

Its probably just
Wishful thinking like
They always say,
Maybe not though.

I love the name and
I like the feel,
I am adreamer and
I wish you were too.