Float

Heaven sheds its early morning beams, vivid hues alight on batted eyelids,
seven wonders lure the idle senses
to an open blissful transit.
Eternal haunt, a blinding spell forever cast,
Where bewitching hours seem like endless daze we hear!

NB Daze is a pun on days.
We hear is a homophone indicator for this from cryptic crossword puzzles to add mystery.
Float as in slow moving state of suspension of this poem about bliss.