She first appeared as a dream,
or in a dream,
at the tip of his crayon.
Cute, adorable, animated.
She winked at him.
The dreamscape changed.
She turned to graphite
At the tip of his pencil.
Exquisite, beautiful, animated.
She blew him a kiss.
The dreamscape changed.
She took shape on canvas
at the tip of his paintbrush.
Breathtaking, captivating, animated.
She reached for him.
He was awakened
by a whisper:
“Is this a dream?”
There she stood in living color -
holding in her hands
a crayon, a pencil, a paintbrush.
A masterpiece, angelic, with skin.
“Which of us is the dreamer?” she asked.
“Which of us is the dream?”
And the Potter smiled
as the work of His hands
brought His dream to life.
The Potter whispered:
“Awaken her with a kiss.”