She creeps to me where I lie asleep,
tears on her cheeks, voice cracked with sleep.
"Nightmare?" I ask, sweeping the sheet
aside, moving my feet.
No, no, she weeps. Not a bad dream.
It was a lovely dream,
the best dream. A sweet, sweet dream.
Yet she grieved
because this perfect dream
she could not keep.
Wow. This was lovely. If you scrapbook this would make an amazing page.
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