In her dreams
She calls her other daughter Topaz
Because she's warm, exotic, musky
And very precious

Thousands of restless sleepers
Dream of Topaz
Of Sapphire, of Emerald, of Diamond,
Shadows of precious gems
More priceless and unobtainable
With every year that passes

It's not about blame
Choice is sometimes just
An empty box

But every solution has its price
How high this one?
I can't tell you, unless you know.
If you know, it's too late

In her dreams
God says, Topaz?
That's a pretty name
Come and sit next to me

Only it's not a dream
It's a prayer.

Nicolette Turner

If you've any comments on this poem, Nicolette Turner would be pleased to hear from you.

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