You choose

Would it not be nice, if somewhere between, plugging in your phone, and turning off the light, you were able to choose your dream tonight. Where would you go and who would you be, if upon closing your eyes you would become, the king or queen of fantasy’s kingdom. Within this delusion, which you control, the sky is the limit, and you brush the paint, onto the darkness appears, the picture you hallucinate. Out in the green pasture, along a babbling brook, under the shade of a tree a picnic blanket spread, and upon that quilt, my love laid and read. A large grey hound slept at her feet, while birds in the branches, sang a afternoon song, next to the brook, where leaves float along. So this is my choice as I turn off the light, if I were able to choose my dream tonight.