Upon a steed of white came he
As I stepped from the mist,
He did dismount - I did recount
That moment we first kissed.
T'was by the tree, He knelt to me
My hands under my cloak
Declaring love and strength
As big and wide like the mighty Oak.
As the mist surrounds
Where no one's heeding
Unspoken words
Where love lies bleeding,
Carved into the base of that old oak tree
The intials are of him and me...
And wherefound - tiny pieces
Of a silver cloak
Hence from tiny acorns
Grow the Mighty Oaks.
Irina Whitford
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-dream-i-had/
