Phantom Dreams

Nineteen winters old, by campfire's glow, A log seat worn, where dreams begin to flow, The purple sky, a canvas wide, Blue stars and phantoms, side by side. A girl beside him, hair aflame, White curls, blue eyes, a gentle claim, Her voice, a melody so sweet, Echoes past lives, a mystic repeat. He sings along, though unaware, Of harmonies that linger there, Content in dreams, where love resides, Under skies of wonder, where hearts collide. But when he wakes, her face fades fast, A memory lost, forever to be past, A mirthless laugh, a sigh so deep, Phantom dreams, a longing to keep. In class, he stares out the windowpane, Lost in reverie, a world in vain, Was it real? A dream, a fleeting thought? He wishes it wasn't, a heart that's caught. The phantoms fly, the girl sings on, In his dreams, where love is never gone, Though her face hides, a mystery still, In phantom dreams, his heart stands still.