He saw her at the pier when the tide was high,
When the seagulls swarmed to snatch a meal and ride the waves.
She had the beauty of an angelic sunbeam,
The wind caressed her mantle of hair and tickled her cheeks.
He had the pallor of a dying swan,
His knees knocked together and his temples were moist.
To step forward to such a beauty,
Would take the highest level of courage, a will unexercised.
It creaked into life when she smiled,
He approached with sinking heart, certain of a cruel demise.
She turned with a ballerina’s grace,
Rosy cheeks and bright sapphire eyes, a broad smile.
He could not stand before this dream,
His legs became jelly, he sunk into darkness.
When he awoke the girl hung above,
Had he reached a grand heaven, or similar state?
“Franklin,” the angel softly cooed,
he could only reply, “yes my love?”
The dream shattered like a broken mirror,
The alarm did blare, it did smother his vision.
“Oh man,” Franklin stared at his clock,
“I almost got her this time.”*Originally Published in Bravura 2009
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