At long last, I emerged from the woods. My spirits lifted at the sight of a newly green meadow. A half dozen small brown hares hopped quickly away, startled at my appearance. Small red hearts (anatomical) fluttered by on delicate sparrow wings as I walked into the green field.
I walked further, following the fluttering hearts, into a beautiful display of blossoming red roses. Too late I realized that the vines of the roses were entangling me, the thorns tearing at my gown and my flesh (I'm often clothed in formal Victorian garb in these dreams).
Fortunately, I suddenly possessed a scythe and was able to carve my way out of the roses and escape back to the safety of the field.
Vengefully, I caught one of the hearts and sank my teeth into it, savoring the taste.