The mornings wake to a bright new day,
Hiding secrets of the night,
Mourning it's heavenly glory,
As darkness turns to light.
A few things yet remain hidden,
It's best not to disclose,
Your dreams are but yours to keep,
They set in as your eyes close.
Into fantasy, into a new world,
With faces and hopes changing,
As morn arrives, these go to sleep,
And all that's left is a day long waiting.
Some complain , they do not dream,
It's not true, they don't know,
Every night with hopeful hearts,
Into their waiting arms we go.