I twist and turn
Down these spellbound halls,
Past vestry windows with
Saints depicted in glass.
I sneak up the stairs,
Silently slipping into darkness.
I tiptoe across the floor
And enter our world.
Butterflies greet me with
Their soft, gentle kisses,
The flowers are in bloom,
And snow falls from the
Enchanted night-time sky.
It is not cool,
Nor is it warm.
It is comfortable and ours.
I follow the winding path
Through the forest,
I slip unseen into our bed
And wrap myself
In our private cocoon,
Faeries sing us to sleep,
Angels play their music,
Cherubs whisper softly,
And we drift off
To an eternal slumber
Where we are free
And love can roam
Undisturbed,
Peaceful,
Perfect,
In our own world.