The garden in my dreams

I see the garden when I'm dreaming.
The dew-covered grass sparkling in the early morning sun,
the colorful flowers gleaming,
and shimmering spider webs delicately spun.

I run around the big oak tree,
laughing until I cry,
then lie back to watch the bees,
and wonder what it's like to fly.

The sun sets slowly,
its last rays of sunshine bathing my face in a warm light.
I wish I could stay here all night,
but I know wholly,
that living in my dreams isn't right.

 

by Katherine T

Read the story behind this poem
 

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