It was five o'clock in the morning when I awoke, rather rudely I might add, by a series of words being typed across the inside of my eyelids.

"If I be dreaming..."  was the first of the dream thwarting lines.

"Go Away" I yell out loud to an empty room, and yank the covers back over my head as I force myself back to sleep.

"Such perfection of beauty mine eyes have never beheld" was the next of several troublesome sentences to pass into my concience.

"Man, why is it always when the sun rises that I have to deal with these things.  Roll over and go to sleep"  I tell myself once again.

" I pray that if I be dreaming..."

" What time is it now?"

" At the tone the time will be seven a.m. exactly -- beep" is the voice the chimes in my head.

"But a fleeting moment in time..."

"Fine, I'll write you!" was the response to the nagging words of inspiration.

Crawling out of my comfort zone knowan as bed, I slink around the 10 ft square cubicle scrounging for a sheet of paper, which is deftly eluding my grasp.

"Your voice rings with sweet tones..."

"Yes!' the treasure is found.  Grasping the nearest writing utensil, which lay on the floor under a pile of last weeks dirty laundry, I release the words with a cascading fury upon the paper  with such finesse that could only be matched by the dancing feet of the great Gene Kelly himself.

"So I say to you..."

Line after line i write until perfection is found, no, only the satisfaction of my creative drive.

Text complete, I set the tool of my freedom and relief and I look over what can only be described as the doctors chicken scratch and realize that at some later date translation will not be difficult.

If I Be Dreaming.

Such perfection of beauty mine eyes have never beheld.

I pray that if I be dreaming mine eyes have not the sleep removed so that I may forever continue to gaze on the ever flowing perfection that I see before me.

But a fleeting moment in time I fear, I have to watch such perfection.   But a lifetime it will -- must last.

As graceful as the swan, as quiet as the fawn your movements are.

Your voice rings with sweet tones of silver bells being rung in the early morning light.

Bringing harmony to all that can hear, have heard or will ever hear.

so I say to you move not from my sight.  Such perfection of beauty.

For beauty such as you have is but a fleeting moment in my mind.

But forever in time, space and eternity.

And if I be dreaming, May the never have the sleep taken from mine eyes.