Which images will fill my head tonight
as sleep obliterates all mundane things?
A magic carpet ride at speed of light
to savour sights and sounds, imaginings?
Supreme achievements, dragons fought and slain,
A timid, understated life grown bold;
A plethora of joy – an end to pain?
My ultimate made tangible, in gold.
Not even when night’s terrors hem me in
would I seek refuge in a deep repose;
Nocturnal fears which penetrate within
serve only to enrich what they compose.
Yet naught I see in dreams compares to this:
To wake with you I count as perfect bliss.