All the nights and days of endless dream and legend, He and I would ride across a dusty plain, Never home or child for either one of us - Rare, light kisses, chaster than a sigh, for him; I had savage innocence, all passion-free. By his grave I sit like any loyal pup, Waiting for our dream to fade from mortal minds. Freed to my own fate at last, to seek my star, All I find to dream, so far, is: no more dust, and Somewhere may I find a kiss, that's just for me.
This was written on a dare, in a poetry workshop. It is trochaic hexameter, meaning each line has seven units of two syllables, the first syllable accented and the second syllable unaccented.