Fantasies

Halfway up the tower steps,
A window in the wall
Reveals the lilacs on the vine
Like grapes in early fall.

Beside the stones on which they grow,
A centaur stands and sighs.
He plucks a bunch for his sweet love,
Then gallops his goodbyes.

A prince walks down the road below,
His boots on cobbles ring.
He spies me in the casement gap
And calls my smile "Fair Spring."

He woos for but a half an hour
Before a car drives past.
My figments are such grand escapes,
And yet they never last.

Thus it is I dream a love
That you will never feel.
I give the prince one final smile:
The flow'rs alone were real.

--Megan Morris, meikundayo@yahoo.com