She is surrounded by her friends, and they rise
with iridescent wings, murmuring
soft and sweet phrases enough expands
even the humblest lady’s ego. They wreath flowers–
hyacinth, freesia, and ones whose name she does not remember–into a wreath of flowing
scents. They join hands, together.
They float up into the atmosphere, together.
Mist forms join them on their rise.
A tiger, a hopping bunny, a fluttering hummingbird–each is unique. Their forms are flowing,
blending into clouds of marshmallow. Breezes are murmuring
in her ears, singing soft melodies. The scent of flowers
are brought by the wind. The song expands
into a symphony of sea-song. The sound of tide fills, expands
in her ear. The sea, the seagulls, the shells: everything together
is more vivid than life. She brushes her hair back, noticing her wreath of flowers
is missing. The winged friends let go of her hand and rise,
smiling during their goodbyes. Murmuring
soft, pretty compliments to her lone figure. The sea is continually flowing
while she sits, alone. The ever-singing seagulls are flowing,
their flock changing shape into a monstrous creature of no name. It expands,
Seagulls are murmuring
hoping to be spared. In bunches, together
they are pulled into the creature. The creature continues to rise.
She desperately wishes to be back with the breezes of flowers.
And, suddenly, she smells them! The scent of flowers
fill her nose. And, she peers up to find him, cape flowing
behind him. Taking his hand, she is compelled to rise
And, secretly, her heart expands.
On the beach, they sit together.
He leans to her ear, murmuring
sweet phrases. She is murmuring
back, soft words intoned with enamor. Using magic, he procures flowers,
a bouquet. They hold the bouquet between them, together.
He brushes his free hand through her flowing
hair. The flowers expand,
turning into a wonderful wreath that perfumes the air around them. They rise.
She wakes up, her voice murmuring his name. She brushes back her hair, remembering
their dreamy encounter–the flowers! Her heart swells, expands until it cannot.
How wonderful it was to be together. Her spirits rise in prospect.