I Like To Write Poetry

[i] Dithyramb: An Appeasement to Morpheus[/i]

How can I miss thee? Ne'er have we greeted,
Nor hath skin on mine hands so warmly graced.
Any form of us in hallowed embrace
Has been but a dream too swiftly fleeted.
How can I feel this - the touch of your kiss?
The blush of thou rose petals, set in twain,
That softly gloss my lips in crimson stain;
What has more worth than such a thought as this?
I desire eyes that have yet struck their gaze;
And I - adrift upon those emerald seas -
Would straightway perish and waft on the breeze
To be laid to rest in their sapphire haze.
Oneiric, mine hopes, 'til vividness seized;
'til oceans apart be flatten'd and freez'd.

[i]- Copyright Timothy Michael McNeil, 2015[/i]