Dreams

Silent tiptoes ushering 

An angel chorus from on high,
A single note, 
        A breathless sigh
Leaves a feathered cloud of dreams
Soft upon my waiting pillow.

Never seems to be too much, 
Ever welcome to the touch, 
Always cotton-candy sweet to taste, 
If dreams were made of such.

Rapid eyes survey the scene, 
Anxious to view everything and more 
If more presents itself  
Beneath the glow of starlight beams.

Anything and everything is possible it seems. 
Flights of fancy are forever,
Living on in dreams.

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