New Dreams Descending

Descending from blue
skies of midsummer madness,
life lines of snowy,
silvery dreams that leave their
wondrous trails across
infinity. Strange whispers
of mortal woes fade.
O your wind blown hair and
the azure secrets.
Within your soft glowing eyes!
Let's find quietude:
a place of sanctuary,
before the darkness
arrives like an unwelcome
guest, crashing in on,
a sumptuous feast of friends.
Time moves too quickly
to savour precious moments
like these. I wish
I could hold them in my mind
for a while and then
frame them, and perhaps save them,
for a rainy day.
Alas, nothing ever lasts.