Fantasy love is but castles in air,
Containing all we wish to dare,
Cobwebs of life
Floating in air so rare,
Gossamer wings bereft of care.
Comes with fantasy's fireworks
Stripping reality bare.
Happiness by illusions invention attained
Mid enraptured pleasure of beating heart
Wonderful to feel.
With flowering words life's problems
Fantasy doth heal.
"I want you, I love you, I need you,
With all my heart,"
Rings loudly in hearts so real,
In games players deal.
Too often we look in the empty promise of a crystal ball,
For true love's seal.
Fantasy builds illusions
Upon a land of emotions besought,
Bestowing extravagant images,
From willing souls bought,
To the cream of glorious thought.
Love, like war, removed from actuality,
Is distorted with hallucination fraught,
Of spirits running before the wind,
Till in the snare they’re caught.
As playthings of the mind,
Living in lands
Rich and sublime,
In a fabled place
Totally without reason or rhyme,
Dispossessed of place,
Blind to time,
From which no-one can climb.
In lovers dreams and schemes,
Dreams sometimes lead
To greater things,
But too often dreams yield
Nothing but moon beams,
Foolery without a center,
Or so it seems,
On gossamer wings.
Fantasy is nothing but intellectual vapor.
Fertile imaginings abound
Away from the actuality caper,
Forming fiction unsound
Substantial as onionskin paper.
You might as well look for frogs to dance
As to pin your love on games of chance
For therein lies a cloud of whimsical lies
Scattering hopes abstract,
That from the very core flies,
Thinking good luck will fall in fact
From a genie in a lamp
Giving the three-wish pact
Making you the world's champ.