In my sleeping hours.
I dream dreams of you.
I wake up far to early.
So i make myself a brew.
And then i put pen to paper.
And write more poems for you.
This is number 58 and i cannot believe.
Where i find these words so true.
I just cannot conceive.
But they seem to flow so naturally.
As though i,ve written all my life.
Instead of recently.
I believe my inspiration.
Comes directly to me from you.
And mixed together with love.
Has made a potent brew.
So read the words i write.
And take this potion in.
We are on the road to happiness.
And yes, were going to win.
