She wakes up to the smell of coffee
A kiss good morning
Breakfast in bed
And then she's off to work
She's a florist
Doesn't pay much, but it makes her happy
She eats lunch at a bistro downtown
Watches the traffic lights change
She might read the newspaper, too
And she takes her time because she's her own boss
On Wednesdays she closes early
To drive the hour down to the ocean
So that she can watch the sun set
She'll listen to the waves
And taste the salty sea air
And she'll write poetry in her head that won't make it to paper until several months later
And she'll go home when it's time
And she'll get a kiss goodnight and share the taste of the salt air
And she'll dream of the ocean and poetry and coffee and traffic lights and newspapers and breakfast in bed and kisses and sunsets
And she always wakes up smiling
Because her dream is her reality