Between the pages written by day within one's thoughts,
where the ink flows in tales, predictable and ordinary,
the heart pauses to lie down in memory's meadows
among the soft and silky pillow's blades,
which gently silence any cares
as a soothing lullaby
and let the mind flutter with questions
about if life were more like a dream.
Late afternoon visits with soft waves of cooling calm,
swaying in the spell of tranquility's hammock,
suspended between two pillars of nostalgia
of times when magic was real,
bringing wings to every morning.
Sunrise was a flight
without gravity of concern,
but love wind had yet to touch.
Butterfly passions,
rising from innocence's cocoon
always makes the soar through the hour's skies
a sail of lilting sensory kisses,
while waiting with peace flowing in the eyes
for the one who gave her life its gossamer plumes of joy,
delicate lace of feelings
adorning with subtle smiles and sighs
in the amber wash of sunset's light.
Honorable winner
Adding your comment:
The only thing, is that I wish there was MORE punctuation... It seems to ramble on a bit - beautifully, but, it begins to bore me as a babble of emotions. I'm not meaning to cut your work down, I am sure this could just be the result of Automatic writing, which I do often. But I usually go back and try to tidy it up a bit with punctuation. 
and love
