At The Gate
by: Janet Lavergne
I will steal a glance
across the waves
and meet you at the gate
standing before the house,
warming you in the night,
keeping you from the rain.
Grant me the chance
to find you there at the gate
with the smile I remember
and the eyes that sparkled blue
and the sweet, soft voice
I often hear in the breeze.
To reach for a place
across the waves
would be too distant
for one less caring
and I might say
the journey is too much
if I were not me.
I am called a dream
and do admit to a mind
that often wanders
beyond reality
and reaches the bay.
I see me there with you
at the gate.
Together at last under the start
seeming to blush with shame
at the brilliance of your eyes
and we share a kiss.
I am the dreamer they accuse
and wait to be cast away.
Still my vision exists
of the distant shores of Scotland
where you watch from the window
and steal a glance toward the gate
where soon we will meet.
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