To Marcy Howard
A myriad of emotion, is replayed every night,
As fond memory comes alive, eyes closed there is no light,
Can a dream become a nightmare, when does a vision become a ghost,
Is she inside the nightly dream, that every night we host.
They say dreams are those desires, that while sleeping are unchained,
As the vision we see each night, has clearly never changed,
A pleasure to see there is no doubt, and each night she comes again,
Is it possible that this dream, becomes something on which we depend.
Every night I know Ill see, no matter how much I try,
Long dark hair and pierced right cheek, with that twinkle in her eye,
Some days I dread her appearance, while others its what I need,
And in the daylight without her, without her vision I bleed.
As the darkness approaches, the daylight fades to night,
I know Ill see her face again, as eyelids block out the light,
A vision that dreams give me, and with time it goes on still,
Because as I see her smile again, I know I always will.