Gone were the noisy, rowdy, boisterous times.
No thought now of football, cars or nights in the pub.
But instead a dream, so long forgotten in his normal life.
A yearning desire for something just out of reach, finally touchable.
A soft, gentle, glowing feeling that all is well, pours into his soul.
Like the mist clearing on a fine spring morning, she finally comes into view.
The smile with its gentleness, beauty and grace.
Her body glistening with dew, seeming to shine with its own light.
Her welcoming arms reaching out only to him.
The serene movement of each graceful step, a ballet, just for him.
Was it really true, had he truely found her.
That lost part of him to be finally fullfilled.
The emptiness and hunger sated.
She is laughing, smiling, crying all at once.
His arms close gently around her.
At last, all his dreams and desires, a reality.
Their lips meet and that certain spark, between them happens.
He knows now that she is real.
His own Angel of the Morning.
