You were not here, but the thought of
Your bright though deep eyes
Your open yet enigmatic smile,
In your absence,
Your presence within me,
Made me love you all over again.

Just so real it has all been
That for me it is difficult
To actually accept
That you are nothing but
A lovely spectre, a beautiful thought
A whimsical fancy or perhaps
An unrealised dream.

But this realisation
Has woken me from the reverie
And made the contrast of reality
So very obvious.

It seems a crime to have thought of you.
A cruel joke of fate,
Completely devoid of humour,
That my flights of fancy have made you,
So living, so real.

Yet I cannot but despair,
Though I should not but hope.
That may be,
Sometime, someday, some moment,
I do really come to know you,v
Or even get a glimpse of you
And capture your existence,
Your soul in me.
For the fleeting second
For the beautiful hour,
For the passing day,
For the long roads of life,
That I have to traverse
Lonely and bereft without you.