Dreaming of My Doctor

by PetrichorPoet

a poem inspired by a dream I had about the Tenth Doctor.

Dreaming of My Doctor (a poem)

After struggling to find sleep and grab its hand,

I slip into dreamland.

I dream of the 'mad man with a box'—

one particular version of him:

the one who is tall, thin, warm chocolate eyes,

sharply dressed in a suit and long brown coat,

with a bright smile and a kind musical voice.

In my dream we dance—slowly.

Hands united, fingers entwined,

My head resting on the soft black t-shirt-covered chest.

He smiles and says "let me have the lead."

I close my eyes and let my senses capture the moment—

summer air, night sky dotted with stars, gentle breeze,

the soft hands, the warm chest, the beating heart.

I open my eyes and I'm welcomed

by afternoon sun, green grass, a blur

of children running, playing, talking,

birds chirping.

He sits next to me and we watch the scene.

Turning his head, he smiles at me,

gently takes my hand for a moment.

Then slowly his grip slips from me, but he still smiles.

I know he won't let me go even as he rises to leave

for moment.

"This must be how the girl in the storybook felt,"

I say.

He smiles again and says "yes."

Though I awake and find myself greeted

by the same sun, the same sounds of summer,

there is no man beside me.

Only an empty side of the bed.

I am the girl who is waiting—

And dreaming of her Doctor.