My Faeling

He used to walk in my dreams.
Softly he tread, mindful of me
I heard him. He knew I heard him and yet
he walked. Oh so quietly.

I never once laid my eyes on him,
But somehow knew his faeling sight.
Dark long hair and a graceful build
Eyes of a deer caught in light.
Large and bright. But not a prey. Never a prey.
He was The creature of the Night.

He was my faeling.
Born of my dream. Cared with my fear.
Always behind me. Sometimes a tad too near.
My heart he holds, within slender hands.
My fright he drinks, with flawless lips.

Yes,  born from dreams was he.
No longer. Today he does walk free.
A silent presence. A faithful shadow.
Ignores my whispering scream.
Cares not for my fluttering plea.
Slowly. Softly. Winds his arms,
around, from behind me.

A gentle caress. A fleeting touch.
A smile so loud.
My heart pounds too hard.
My hands do quiver. And yet.
And yet my faeling holds me.
The fear .
My blood so cold.
His feathery wings do tickle my ear.
I want to sob. I want to scream.
And yet, I let my faeling hold me.





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