Dream Girl.

Her face as fresh as the day she was born.
Her hair the colour of reaped summer corn.
Her eyes the same colour as the emerald isles.
Her skin the colour of a whiter shade of pale.
Her body as slim as a catwalk model.
Her soul as clean as an operating theatre.
Her heart as warm as the summer sun.
Her voice as soft as newly woven silk.
Yes she’s my type of women.
Then i wake up and realise i was dreaming.
I knew to have someone like that would be to hard to be true.
Until the next time i dream, her i will meet again.
Don’t know where don’t know when.
But i know we’ll meet again some dreamy night.