The flutter of his eye lash
So like the fluttering butterflies
in my dreams.
The twitch of his leg while he
restlessly dreams
Reminds me of a wild horse
rearing in old movies on T.V.
His gentle, low snore
Is a train that takes me all
the places I want to be.
In motion or rest,
In waking and sleep
The man who lies beside me at night
Is the man of my dreams.