Light At The End Of The Funnel

I remember you - you're the one who loved me true,
emerging into pilgrims progress, in shades of blue,
I passed a good samaritan who fixed me up again,
until I became fine like delicate sparkling champagne.

Clean air filled my lungs as the magic passed thro,'
what a wonderful feeling with life and you there too;
now, this time I'd cling to all, no need to beg and borrow,
as though recognition, realise, was as no tomorrow.

It took this, no cessation, to finally give me anticipation
of fine things, all that was out there, no indignation 
at any lack, anything missing or unreachable goals,
rather, an importance of restful, touchable souls.

This time would be a smile, taught me to stay awhile,
I could touch smooth hands of yours and my own style.