Wishing Well

Little grey bricks,
Smooth circular walls.
Small slate roof,
Dripping water calls.
A rope and a bucket,
Wild ivy growing around,
Long green grass...
This enchanted place, found.
Sun shining sweetly,
The smell as flowers in the air.
But then I wake up,
For this waking world I don't care.
Take me back too that place,
I want to see it at night.
The moon beaming down,
Bathing it in soft light.
The little fairy flies,
Dancing in the air.
I want to go back too sleep.
I want too be there.