I’m lost in magic’s crooked dreams,
time’s clock has broken hands
and sleep is slow like rocks in streams,
my feet in silent sands.


The clouds like falling feathers fly
in pictures lovers frame,
their softness claims the lullaby
when candles hold their flame.


I want the dream that leads me back
to you, in heaven’s bliss,
without the shadow’s gray and black,
with just a passing kiss.


I’m asking, hold my waiting hand,
you left and I forgave.
I hold the lilac’s purple strand
and place it on your grave.


I beckon winds that soar above
with dreams that memory gives
I’ll ask for wings like mourning’s dove
and fly where angels live.