I walk beyond a hill,
My senses guiding me.
Beyond the garden of dill,
To the never-ending sea.

The sand, it heats my toes,
The wind, blows gently my face.
The smell, devours my woes.
The shells, more detailed than lace.

A pleasant surprise awaits,
Under the shadow of a tree.
Handsomer than the Pearly Gates,
The surprise that waits for me.

I walk up to him bit by bit,
Surely this can't be real.
This angel of compassion and wit,
With me near the waters of teal?

I try to question aloud,
But he puts a hand to my lips.
My stomach fills with a cloud,
And I feel myself start to tip.

My strong hero catches my fall,
And brings me to his chest.
His arms create a wall,
He cradles me in his nest.

I then earnestly start to cry,
For now I know it is fake.
My hero may never be mine,
For both his and my sake.

He puts a hand on my head,
And looks into my eyes.
"Hush, love, hush," he says.
"Now is not the time to cry."

I wipe away my tears,
And gaze in his brown eyes.
He takes away my fears,
Confirms he tells no lies.

And then he eyes get closer,
And he places his lips on mine.
My own eyes flicker to a close,
And I feel peaceful and sublime.

This, surely, is heaven.
I must have died somehow,
And entered a seventh heaven.
I do not much care how.

I tighten my grip on his back,
But when he did on mine,
I feel my own slack,
We no longer intertwined.

I float away from my bliss,
And see him running to catch me.
I start, knowing something was amiss.
Then realized, I am where I should be.

Bundled in covers, with my tear-stained face,
I knew my hero wouldn't lie.
It was a dream, and I knew, I had lost this race,
For now is the time to cry.

"One's true pleasures are only seen behind the closed eyes of a dream." -- Anonymous