waxing mirrors
in the rain,
have i gone insane?

stout, fearsome, mad, and ablaze
he conjures, super-crazed, these nefarious creations

until cool, mellow wells of comfort
bubble out and into a sappy finish

because she sings to me a silent symphony

after our brilliant conversation on love in love
shifted, like a dream
like ice that melts to the warmth,

towards tomorrow's frozen hues.

Josh Terpening

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflecting-8/