I was dreaming last night.
About you.
And me.
We were walking to our house, under the Scottish sun.
Its warmth.
Light.
Ayrshire light.
Leading us home.
We walked hand in hand.
The house sat on its own.
In a clear, empty field.
An endless sky above, clouds rolling across its deep blue.
A gravel path.
A garden alive with colours.
Up the step.
The door open, we crossed the threshold together.
The house is warm.
A fire burning.
I poured us a drink.
We sat together.
Smiles, Laughter.
The music played.
You ran your hands through my hair.
We kissed.
Your lips.
Your touch.
Your heart.
(c) Paul Andrew Sneddon
