Dream Weaver

A boy who held a heart in his hands
Well, not quite a boy but not yet a man
The heart was as soft and tender as clay
Maybe that boy wouldn't give it away
The heart would shrivel for fear of being crushed
And that boy refused to be rushed
But he dreamt of a girl that would sing him to sleep
To hold to a heart he didn't fear keep
For his was surrounded by a cold layer of stone
Which may, in turn, have kept him alone
But in his hands, the heart began to pound
Filled with wonder and overjoyed at the sound
He ran through the snow, wild flakes tumbling cold
And within his chest, his heart became gold

- - -

There once was a girl with a surrogate heart
Held by a boy who could tear it apart
In hope of rescue, she wrote his dreams by night
But the act couldn't quite seem to stifle her fright
It was true that she loved him, silly as it seems
Always on her mind, vivid in her dreams
She'd do anything for him, he wouldn't have to ask
But fear was her pain and worry, her mask
Until one day he took off through the snow
She could hardly bear that she'd have to watch him go
She shut her eyes tight, afraid to even peek
Hoping he'd come back by the end of the week
And then she realized the ground beneath her moved
He was on a journey, and she was coming, too.

- - -

Day by day, the story unfolds
Two star-crossed lovers, two hearts of gold.