In A Strange Land

Blossom petal spring forth beauty,
Shining endlessly not as bounty hunter,
O'er mountains valley nor hills,
Call it sleepwalking it's erroneous,
Glimpse of the field seems ageless to the glimpser,
Fresh and sweet scent filled my nasal cavity,
Deja'vu,
Lost in a land which stick to my head,
With immediate alacrit, it hallucination,
Wake me before am forever lost.