Jessie Wilcox Smith, Bedtime.
I like this one too because of the wonderful golden light, and that stairwell reminds me of the Victorian house I grew up in.
I remember being carried up those steps by my father, and I still visit that time and that place in my dreams...
Loving dreams that wet my pillow with tears of happiness for times gone by,
and sadness for those no longer here.
Today I will buy flowers and take them to my Father's grave, gone now for thirty-five years but young and strong in my dreams, still carrying me up those stairs of my childhood.