Field of Dreams

I close my eyes to sleep, and find this place, a secret place where I alone can dream, where green hills role, between each pale blue space, and lilting rhythms ripple through a stream, Lying here on sweetly scented grass, I am caught up with each harmonious tone, And, would gladly let so many hours pass listening as water dances over stone, While here, I am incapable of thought or reason, having no rules to keep or orders to obey, for in this place there is no change of season only beauty, that can take ones breath away, Overhead, the sunlight dappled through the trees, creates an almost ethereal glow, as tall laburnums wave upon a gentle breeze, to rhododendrons, pink and violet below, In the hedgerow are two paper whites at play, skimming through forgot-me-nots they chase, the buttercups, their heads in gentle sway, pay homage to the wild rose's subtle grace, Alas, I know that soon I must awake, and leave the beauty cast before my eyes, but, this path is one that I will take again, and where the magic of imagination lies.