Slowly I drift towards awareness, I begin to surface
Even at this stage I realise there is something wrong
As my eyes open I try to focus, look around
There, at the end of my bed, standing so still

A faint ghostly figure, was it male or female?
I should be feeling terrified but I only feel calm
A strange sort of luminescence surrounds this figure
Gradually, ever so gradually it becomes brighter

Now I can see it is a female, incredibly beautiful
Her radiance lighting up the room, bouncing off the walls
Becoming so bright it was almost burning the retinas
For a moment I closed my eyes, her vision was still clear

Her white gown fluttering in a non-existent breeze
Catching the lacy sleeves as she raised her arms
Her flowing golden hair cascading down to her waist
And her skin so white and pale it was almost translucent

Her eyes bored into mine reaching down into my soul
Yet there was nothing but love and compassion in them
And her smile, men have fought battles for such as this
To tug at the heartstrings, to overwhelm with emotion

I just lay there, unable to even move, powerless to act
‘Steve,’ she spoke, no not spoke, rather more like a melody
A melody that flowed as sweet and thick as honey
One that sends ripples of pure pleasure through your body

‘Steve,’ again as the waves forcefully crashed against me
I lay there like a lonely lighthouse on a craggy rock
As wave after wave pounded me, washed over me
‘Steve,’ once again, and this time she held out her hand

Without the slightest hesitation I reached out and held it
Slowly I rose from my bed and moved next to her side
I felt, different, somehow more alive, like never before
It was as if I had drunken from the fountain of youth

And there on the bed lay a wrinkled old man, smiling
A man who had reached one hundred and two
Who had led a long, eventful life, with not too many regrets
‘Time to go home,’ she said, and I knew she was right