I’ve come to a world—
one of fairies & magic;
of elves and goblins,
nasty trolls and ugly orcs,
and the many, many
heroes & villains.
And I’ve seen a talking willow
through the window sill-o
of my imaginative mind.
Though I might just find
the gnomes are having at it—
and stepping quite out of line.
Whilst then, I also find:
Otters doing odder things
than trees laying their many seeds,
and letting go of their
elderly leaves—
but only to make room for the new,
so that they may grow, too.
And I sit beneath the wishing star,
hoping that, not off too far,
I may find what I am to look for—
perhaps my ship washed upon shore,
so that I may fly my kite
high up & into the grand ol’ sky,
and watch it forever soar.
Though I make pretend
that this dream may
not ever end,
that is when they’d send me away,
into a far-off Neverland—
of fairies & magic,
the truth’ers and the fakers.
Whether my imagination
be at stake,
I do not know.
Though I do hope
that I may somehow
find my way back
to the world I once knew—
not of this one,
but of that.