“I’m the youth of 1,000 summers…”

I’m the youth of 1,000 summers
and she’s the princess of the morning
and together we walk
in the sun at start of day
and she’s sweet as the flowers
that grow in the yard

and I’ve told you before
of her golden curls
that fall on her silken shoulders
and those creamy legs
and a t-shirt
and her dainty fingers
holding my dainty dreams
long when you’re gone
I’ll see the rising sun
and I’ll know where to find you

and your smile
the sweet, sweet smile
of an apparition

the thought of holding you
will fill many a summer night
sitting on your curb

(from “Part Two: Rosie”)

The dreamer lost preparing for the end. The first line I borrowed from Van Morrison. The last three lines shed a bit of reality’s light on the dreamscape of these poems.

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