I sit in the quiet library and listen
To the tepid ticking of the large grandfather clock
And the gentle scratches of pencil meeting paper.
A familiar tune drifts through the room and I hum along.
Dropping my pencil, I lean back in my chair, and a sudden wind picks me up,
Launching me into a cloudless blue sky.
Stepping onto the brightly checkered picnic blanket,
The aroma of rose tea and velvet cookies wafts through the air,
Like honey spilling through the sky.
Leaping into the pasture,
I let my bare feet touch the dewy grass– breathing in the fresh air–
And gather a bouquet of lavender flowers from up on the hill.
Dancing through the air, I land on a wooden seat
and swing myself above the homely village as
The breeze picks up my hair and sends curls flying behind me.
Twirling into the ballroom, I grab a fistful of my gown,
And waltz into the circle of dancers, who glide like swans across the varnished floor.
The symphony and bright lights blind me into an ecstasy–a euphoria I’ve never felt before.
I jolt awake from the dream.
The joyous images fade ever so slightly,
And all I am left with is the pile of papers sitting in front of me.