wendy-lady

[fahye]

I lost my compass long ago, and found
another way to set my course. I keep
my eyes ahead, my feet firm on the ground,
and only hear your voice when I'm asleep.
I dream of soap and shadows; fairy dust
that glowed bright gold and let me fly. Don't mock
the yearning dreams I have, for dream I must,
and wake up to the ticking of a clock.
I hate the words that hold you now exempt
from growing old; from time; from clocks and life.
These games we played, these worlds we only dreamt,
caught in the mem'ry of a pirate's knife.
My compass now cannot be seen by night
like dust; like stars, the second to the right.

~

Happy birthday, Mel.