Olive
First, I see you in my dreams,
Second, I pass you in the forest.
Just under the clouds I see you thrice,
Eye contact we share in brief exchange.
Doth thou see me in thy dreams, oh olive skin mountain mistress.
Are you the spirit of the mountain, come to lure me to my death.
Or are you grace from natures ball,
Come to teach me how to climb the peaceful heart of cloth and vine.
The sweetest dream you will remain, until I hear you speak my name.
Written by Samuel Powell ©2017
Produced by John Porter
