If I were to dream of her would she
Find me there, standing silent in a
Place where winter never comes, an
Ill-fitting smile beneath cautious eyes
To mask my uncertainty?
And would she smile in return, because
She knows my secret heart cannot find
Its way to the surface of who I am, and
Penetrate the barrier that forms in my
Throat every time I look at her?
In this grove of spring eternal, sun-dappled
Trees and dew-soaked grass, where cloud
Shadows chase the scent of lilacs, would
She place a finger against my lips to hush forever
The thundering turmoil of my own self doubt?
And would she then lean close to me, body
Pressed against mine, long dark hair teased
By a playful dancing wind, would she brush
Those lips against my cheek, the mystery of her
Perfume an ageless one as she whispers in my ear?
Those three little words I dare not say, her friendship
A gift I dare not lose, her kindness worth so much
More than not at all, I hold her close in that secret
Place, behind closed eyes, a hidden grove of
Possibility where winter never comes…
A place that says “I love you”.