I think it was a wise man that once said,
the creative mind was a blessing and a curse,
and how could that be anything but true,
when it lets me see the future?
The one I long to live, the one
I have fashioned out of paper and card,
the crafty fingertips of my imagination,
designed and custom made,
where you are front and centre
and I twirl in endless pirouettes
around your looming form,
a little dancing trinket.
The overwhelming perfume of freshly
bloomed roses, only makes the vision
all the sweeter.
Or is that because you are there,
my puppet, my string,
yet you lead the way, and I do nothing but follow.
A smile that overtakes the sun
and blinds all sense of rationality,
because what are the stars
and what is the moon,
when you are a possibility?
So spare me this day
where I can only imagine what could be,
exactly the way that I want it.
Author bio:
Georgia Whitehouse is a third year student at Newman University, studying English and Creative writing. She writes poetry and short fiction in the Romance genre, and incorporates relevant issues such as Feminism, politics and ethics, into her writing.
Photo by Hudson Hintze on Unsplash