He shows his heart on his sleeve
Whispers sweet nothings and writes odes to me
A true gentleman in every sense of the word
Kindred spirit who unlocks birds from cages of their own making
Mage, sage; with wisdom beyond his years
Alleviates fears with a wave of his wand
Wraps tongue around songs whose lyrics trip seductively from lips to lips
He’s a thinker; our meeting a happenstance
A more-than-happy coincidence, if truth be told
He’s a legendary knight of old; a nightly apparition
On a mission vis-a-vis our shared vision
He’s a dream catcher with a rare ability to spin those dreams into reality
Neither a borrower nor a lender be he; creates for all and gives for free
He weaves his words carefully
A romantic sonnet or a saucy haiku
Uniquely crafted to see me through to day break
He takes his leave at sunrise
Slips silently into the crevices of my mind
moonworld 
Reblogged this on Graeme Sandford and commented:
Who he be? Sounds like a soft poetic typo! G:)
He be a figment of my deranged, lurgified imagination. A girl can dream 🙂