Morning dreams

in a sequence of sensations,
so short-lived, so fleeting,
there is a transient moment,
a haunting reluctance of reality,
an evanescent tug at reason,
a brief, joyous, vision of insanity,
lifting one into an unimaginable scape,
there in a fleeting dream, I saw you,
and knew, that I floated above,
as a clouded ceiling fills the sky,
I felt, omnipotent, limitless,
your outstretched form, below,
stirred, as a butterfly released,
you fluttered into this reverie,
and, captured by the magic
of a shared dream, sparkling,
warm with desire’s hunger,
rising, from the tangled sheets,
on tip toes, reaching toward me ,
then, placing your moist red lips,
on my skin, pressing them gently,
searing my flesh with a biting caress,
the ephemeral became, morning love.

©2012, Donald Harbour