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 |  This new world of imagining, the truth of our fairy tale holidays. |
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My shower of joy for the little children playing in their rooms dancing with their brooms, the truth of fairy tales wishing spinning around in fields of dreams the ocean waves shining on the shore a distant passage to the end of the world. Sculptured stones of old covered by moss where mermaids weep in the ocean lost the tides swirling through the ages with tales told from long ago, trees whispering alive now weaved in time calling us alone a broken heart. Dreaming this new scene fantasy come true why not a carpet ride, goblins in the Celtic forest their wicked queen of spades wandering in the fields of doubt why are your fairies hiding in fear? The king rising in a golden gown dancing with them in the clouds drifting down onto the beach wide eyed in the dunes, in this land of paradise for the little children on Christmas day time to dine. |
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