But I, being poor, have only my dreams:
I have spread my dreams under your feet:
Tread softly, for you tread on my dreams.
~ William Butler Yeats
Meg sat leaned against the beech tree, enjoying the warm, spring air and gorgeous sunshine. The breeze brought her the scent of freshly mown grass. In the distance the sound of children playing completed the scene of serenity. Meg plucked a Ritz cracker from the hamper and a bottle of water from a small cooler beside her on the blanket.
"Do you want anything?" she asked quietly.
"Hmm, no. Thank you, though," Ben answered before a deep yawn. Meg ran her fingers through his dark hair as his head lay in her lap.
"Ruff!" Diefenbaker belly crawled toward Meg, the keeper of the food.
"Cheese or summer sausage?" she asked, smiling at the wolf-dog's pitiful expression.
"Sausage," Ben answered.
Meg tossed the lupine two slices.
"I'm glad you asked me on this picnic.
Ben tilted his head back to meet her eyes, a crooked grin on his face.
"I'm glad you accepted my invitation."
They sat in easy silence for a while, Diefenbaker dozing. From the corner of his eye Ben saw Meg smile and shake her head.
"Care to share?" he asked softly.
Is this a dream?" Meg shrugged, gesturing with her free hand.
"No," Ben smiled. He caught Meg's fingers and brought them to his lips. "Shall I tickle you to see?" He rolled onto his knees and began tickling her sides as he pressed kisses to her cheeks, her neck and forehead. Meg giggled until she was breathless, slapping playfully at him all the while. Ben reveled in the musical sound of her laughter, of her voice. He wiped tears of laughter from her cheeks as her breathing returned to normal.
"You are SO beautiful." He couldn't help it, he found himself staring into her dark eyes. In the void of those dark irises he felt only warmth, gentle warmth.
"Thank you." Meg leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss to his lips. Ben moved to sit beside her, pulling her against his side.
"Do you still think it's a dream?" he asked, leaning his cheek against her head.
"No, a wonderful reality."
Diefenbaker barked his dissent.
"Oh, hush. Have a sausage slice." Meg tossed him a thick slice.
The End