Can You Credit It? Poem by Mary Champion

The first time we met it was in a dream.
You were my hero, my chivalrous knight.
Close by your side, all my terror took flight.
Burned in my mem'ry I still hold that scene
from long ago when I was seventeen.
The decades passed - and the child's dream - so trite -
I saw as unreal in reason's cold light.
Why ask myself what a fiction might mean?
But when you, my love, were still unconceived,
I had been there with you and seen your face.
How could I have known? And how might I guess?
the prophecy no one would have believed
that, in another time and far off place,
you would step back into my life - made flesh.