His colour might not be white
Not necessarily your love at first sight
It might be difficult for him to get a bite
And lack creativity in making an ordinary kite
He might be deprived the strength to winning a fight
Popularly known to possess a pocket so light and tight
But a day comes, when his subsistence shall glow bright
When he would be your great knight
A time he would journey with you on a flight
To a world embodied with so much delight
In the clouds,
Observing others pick their stars,
Waiting for the right time,
When I shall get to illuminate one.
At the junction,
Observing others progress,
Waiting for the right time,
When I shall be put into motion.
On the beach,
Observing others quench their thirst,
Waiting for the right time,
When I shall get my tongue wet.
Under the shed,
Observing others take a nap,
Waiting for the right time,
When I shall get to rest.
Finally Illuminating the light,
With fast speed,
And my wet tongue,
Getting a good sleep.
I love to retire early to bed,
Not because I love to sleep,
But because there with my eyes concealed,
Only one thing do I espy,
Something glowing in the shady kingdom of unconsciousness,
That makes my face beam from the light captured in the shadow of my heart,
To the outer world where your inexistence lie.
Believing your face would one day be captured amidst the fog,
To justify my questionable faith of hope,
And certify my time of waiting.
I love that I get to picture you in my sleep every night.
The time we share together in the unreal realm I cherish.
But both my vision and reality,
I wish to have you subsist.
I wait for that moment when I would behold your face,
Hands fixed together under the sunny charged moon,
When my sticky nose shall run over your flesh to catch your odorous smell.
I look forward to that day,
When our world would become a reality.
P.Lord Shelf 