I fell asleep in the hollow of a willow tree.
A spotted caterpillar tiptoed his way up the bridge of my nose,
Whispering tales of an enchanted meadow.
Blooming into a silken butterfly, he beckoned to hold tight.
.
Across the dawn-dusted sky we flew,
Shining stars illuminating our path into the valley,
Where the frost perched high on the grass
Glinting like silver pearls in the fading moonlight.
A soft crooning of magpies stirred awake the napping animals,
Faeries blew feathered kisses on crystallized flowers
Unfurling the beds of sleeping beetles and moths.
Carpets of daffodils and lilies, carnations and daisies
Spritzed up mists of perfumes into the first ray of sunshine.
Hours ticked tocked in the hustle-bustle
Of the boisterous schools of rabbits, ladybugs and pigs.
Of the solemn hymns of thrushes, lambs and hens.
Of the nectar-gathering of honey bees, ducks and goats.
As dusk shaded the last of the golden luminescence,
Fireflies twinkled from the branches of the old trees,
One by one, the world softly descended into dreamland.
.
And I glided back up into the universe,
Waking up to a fragrance tickling my senses,
Catching a spark in the painting of a meadow,
And a caterpillar blooming on the edge of my quilt…
An Armchair Perfectionist 