Dreams upon their gossamer wings
come drifing down upon us
white and sparkling
like falling snowflakes,
glittering
The form of some sprite
or elven-like figure
tiny feet barely touching the surface
the sill of the window
silent, they creep
their delicate features,
angled in expressions of kindliness,
mischief,
happiness,
caring
touch as light as baby's breath
or soft raindrops upon skin
or downy feathers
They hover, silent,
or dart playfully above
sleeping form, so young
whose breath is steady, whose eyelids heavy,
closed
They sing,
night echoes the tune
a melody, that, upon waking,
the child still shall hear
the branches of trees outisde the window
like the instrument that plays
softly, lullaby
The little creatures
glow with pulsing light,
softly illuminating
the darkness surrounding
with a blusih-white from their faces
their fingertips, wings,
The little glowing bodies
hovering,
darting,
singing,
loving
Until dawn, when they scatter
off to thier own resting
until dusk comes again
And then,
the dreams,
on their gossamer wings
shall come drifting back to thee