Lost In A Field Of Flowers Poem by Emma Atkinson

My eyes bloom open to the morning sun.
The fog outside is think as the heady spell I wake from,
Unfurling about me like a field of Queen Anne's Lace,
And I lie in it with my upturned face
Gazing at the cracks in the ceiling,
Whose fractured lines form snowflakes that will never fall.
I am left with only this feeling,
Soft as warm as my mother's shawl,
That the light from my window,
The sky as it smiles,
Will gather me in with its soft winter wiles,
Hold me like a child, and count on my fingers,
The way of my heart, and how my soul lingers,
When the the girl in my dreams reaches this part.
I am the girl, a child walking in wonder through the field of flowers,
Lost in this dream, so that I loose track of the hours,
And know only the beauty of the sky, the sun, the clouds.
As they cast off their shrouds.
Through the fog, I hear the silhouette of your voice,
And it pierces my heart like the sun through the mist.