His Fingers

Hi there. This is a really good poem,and you yourself is a good writer too.
Due to the fact that you want some help with the stanzas (hehe), I will want to rearrange them like this.

I wake up each day#0000BF ">,
#FF0000 ">To the touch of his fingers
His fingers are like a million kisses upon my cheek,
#FF0000 ">They wrap me up in velvet lace#0000BF ">;
And I get this urge to dance#0000BF ">.

His fingers take me this way and that#0000BF ">;
#FF0000 ">The lace unwinds#0000BF ">,
#FF0000 ">And I go up to the sky,
#0000BF ">And to the sun,
#FF0000 ">And maybe even further.

Wherever I go,
I know his fingers will lead me#0000BF ">,
I can feel his fingers tapping on my door#0000BF ">;
#0000BF ">That every each tap#0000BF ">,
Is a mysterious mystical beat.

#FF0000 ">Put them all together, #FF0000 ">(Maybe you could add "I" at the beginning)
#FF0000 ">And I'm in a far away land,
With castles and ballgowns,
#FF0000 ">And I find myself riding and riding so gracefully on a horse #FF0000 ">(I'd rather read it like this..Then I find myself riding,so gracefully on a horse)
#FF0000 ">And then snap!
His fingers bring me back to reality.

There#0000BF ">, I see his fingers in the oven,
#FF0000 ">And #FF0000 ">out come #FF0000 ">out such smells#0000BF ">,
#FF0000 ">So mouthwatering it's impossible to describe, #FF0000 ">(Maybe you could write..So mouthwatering,impossible to describe)
#FF0000 ">They bundle me up like a little child.

#FF0000 ">My body oozes with warmth and joy,
Then I see him out smiling at the world,
The world smiles back#0000BF ">;
and he reaches out to touch it.

The world breaks into millions of pieces#0000BF ">;
#FF0000 ">And transforms into raindrops, (And #BF0000 ">it transforms into raindrops?)
#FF0000 ">They fall on him and that's when he remembers,
#FF0000 ">That innocent little boy he was, (#FF0000 ">From innocent little boy he was,)
#FF0000 ">To the magician of a man he is now.

The world is his circus, he is the ringmaster. #FF0000 ">(I think it sounds better if it's written like this? The circus is his world)
And the show goes on, all under the millions of kisses,
The musical beats, the ravishing smells,
Which all are underneath his fingers.

What a cool concept for a poem! I love some of the images here. I felt like there were a couple of places that could've flowed a little better, or other small things such as this primarily at the beginning, but there's not really anything worth picking apart. Also, I know poetry can, technically, be in the form of a paragraph, but I felt like this might've been improved by putting it in poem format. Mess around with it a little and see what you think personally, I could be wrong, but it's a thought. In any case, this had a really warm feeling to it, and I loved the happiness and general "fuzzy" feeling this had. It made me all happy.
Keep writing,
StoryWeaver