Drought, rousing dread for the farmer’s harvest,
And thirst-driven searches to alleviate parched lips.
The shimmering desert oases of a starved mind
Or dull, drunken, dehydrated aches behind the eyes.
All things crave this elixir of life.
Just so I wait for you, your touch, your warmth;
The stars would not be too far, yet you are closer.
My mind may run ahead and rejoice in raptured bliss,
But I must take the slow road, with sparkling anticipation.