Last night I saw you - still young, turning your head
so gracefully, and laughing - robed in light;
as I on dream's soft fabric gently tread,
while stealing forgetful sleep before daylight.
What was this hazy world? the uncharted land
of final sleep, of neither space nor time?
where we'll watch clouds, and every grain of sand,
until the waking bell of dawn does chime.
The trees no more would lose their leaves; no more
would birds depart for warmer climes, when we
together here will sit for evermore,
and happy to escape life's troubled sea.
We'll hear dreamcatchers tinkle, and incense smell,
and hear the waves, and watch their gentle swell.