Zandria's Moonland
-J.H. Byrd-
Everything moves
slow
on these soft beaches;
this immortal moonland,
and the tiny stars
go dancing over chilling waves.
Everything moves slow
and the night wind blows.
She grasps the sand between her fingers,
showering you with that delightful
look in her eye.
"Dance with me,"
she says.
Under the star lit waves
I floated away,
hand in hand,
and everything moves slow.
"Take what you can from your dreams,"
she whispers to me,
"and make them real."
I try to reach you.
She lie next to me;
the length of the sea between.
I wake;
still cold and damp from the ocean spray,
reaching like a blind child
searching for warmth,
only to find she disappeared with my dream,
with my heart.
Everything moves slow
as I rub the sand from my eyes.