I dream with the flowers in my garden
And smell their fragrance when the wind blows
It is a cold fall though,
Golden leaves dance around
Covering the grounds of my soul
But there is this tree,
The one all fired up
When the sunlight
Shines above
I stop and sigh
Completely in awe
Perhaps, just perhaps
The memory still lives
In a hidden drawer
Of the dreamer, I used to be