Memory

We met in the summer,

On a long August day,

I saw him walk across the park,

His eyes are dark brown,

Hair in his face,

With a great big smile instead of a frown,

I stumble and fall,

I cut up my leg,

He stops and comes over,

And asks if I'm OK,

He rips off a piece of his sleeve,

And places it upon my knee,

I blush a bright red,

He carries me to a bench,

And then I wake up,

Was this a dream,

Is this my life,

I walk to my room,

In a bit of a daze,

There he lied in my bed,

Wrapped in blankets,

His lips reached to mine in a firey kiss,
I looked up to him,

Was this a dream

Was he really here,

All I know is I Love Him.