Dream Lover

Dream Lover

A Poem by Phill Oz O'fee
"

To dream a dream...

"

Dream Lover


It doesn’t happen often

Mostly after too much red

A sense of real loneliness

When I fall heavily into bed


And as head hits pillow

I drift quickly off to dream

Of soft shimmering mists

Along a golden stream


An alluring awesome image

Appears out spectral haze

A dancing barefoot maiden

Attracts my wanting gaze


Her silken fair-haired tassels

Twirl through slim fingertips

And hazy smouldering eyes

Transfix heart in mystic grip


In velvet tones enthralling

Whispering poetical in rhyme

She liberates my seclusion

Offering adore as her lifeline


A body trembling experience

Electrifies from head to toe

I’m fervour passion gripped

As she encapsulates my soul


Splendid succulent chimaera

How slow fading you disappear

As I awake from slumber

Dream lover I need you here


Copyright @ Phillozofee 2019

© 2019 Phill Oz O'fee


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Reviews

This is lovely. Made me feel quite dreamy reading it and I started to visualise the haziness but intensity of my own dreams.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Phill Oz O'fee

5 Years Ago

Just what I hoped for - a 'dreamy reader'! Thank you for your lovely review SessyK… :-)
Sarah K Cass

5 Years Ago

You are very welcome.
"dream lover, until then, i want to sleep and dream again, that's the only thing to do till my lover's dream comes true" (bobby darren)
oh yes, if only we could find her when we are wide awake.
j.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Phill Oz O'fee

5 Years Ago

So true my friend - thank you for your review... :-)

Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

184 Views
2 Reviews
Added on February 16, 2019
Last Updated on February 16, 2019

Author

Phill Oz O'fee
Phill Oz O'fee

Winchester, Hampshire, England, United Kingdom



About
I am caught in a time spiral of confusion; that period we all experience between birth and death. Somewhere inside hides a poet, writer, lyricist and/or whatever, laying dormant and suppressed by s.. more..

Writing