the woodland

I found a copse dense and cool
upon a hill to view the valley  
 deep , a cleft where magic songs  
and perfumes mix and blue birds sing  
nectar tempting on my tongue.  
Rest awhile relax and know  
the calm of spring time flowers  
butterflies,wings unfurled  
Tensions subside, muscles relax  
a well appears,a cooling flow  
to drink. What contains this taste.?  
From whence?  Imagination? Or reality?  
Dreams persist do not fade  
illuminations from the rising sun  
not erased,shades enhance as    
shadows cast a gloom softening  
harsh sunbeams low in the eastern sky  
no more to hide in night oblivion.  
Reality ? Imagination ? From whence?  
Taste contained, carved in memory.