Bedtime Stories

He longed to read her bedtime stories;
not of pigs and wolves
or kings and queens;
but of lovers who've never met.

He tread across sandy beaches
searching for conclusions
to unwritten scenes
with this woman he'd never get.

"One day I will see you," he said
"with my own eyes, not some visions in my mind."
He didn't need dragons flying above his head.
No need for knights on stallions, no pot of gold to find.


Fantasies, all of them;
and all of them she's read.
None could match her fantasy
of his warmth nestled in her bed.

She strolled through city parks
where little children sang
and wondered if she'd ever meet him,
and if so, would she ever be the same.

"One day I will see you," she said
"with my own eyes, not some visions in my mind."
She returned to her fables -a different type of lie instead,
and longed for bedtime stories told by a gentle man so kind.