WEAVER OF DREAMS

WEAVER OF DREAMS

In the magical hours between midnight and dawn,
I become a weaver of dreams.
I open doors of the past to let the sunshine in,
at least that is the way that it seems.

Memories surface from days long ago,
disturbing the deep sleep I have been in.
I feel the ocean spray and smell the salty air,
leaving footprints of sand on my heart again.

It would not be wise to awake from the dream
as I wander through the days long gone by.
There is happiness found, capturing my spirit,
a short flight of fancy that I truly must try.

Through the mist I see your smiling eyes
offering the love that was lost in our haste.
Too much and too soon, we wanted it all.
On your face, your teardrops are traced.

In the magical hours between midnight and dawn,
can we recapture the love we might have known?
As a weaver of dreams, all wishes come true,
I wonder, why then, do I feel so lost and alone?

Dreams have a way of changing our lives
as we turn another page and move on.
The sun shines again and the world is good,
the memories of heartache are gone.

I would spend my nights waiting for midnight
and for the magical hours until dawn
when the past comes back to us silently
and leaves us feeling that life will go on.

Those magical hours between midnight and dawn...

Countrymom