The flight of a dream into the unknown;
The dance of The Fire, in the core of one’s bones.
The canvas is bright in this place of fancy;
Each brush is poised, to paint all in one's pantry.
The pantry is filled, with all one can ponder;
Picking and choosing is nothing of grandeur.
Regardless the choice, the flight always soars;
The flight of a dream, give journeys galore.
During the flight, the brushes do whirl,
The Fire dictates each stroke, and swirl.
Things here are of The Light;
A colourful canvas ready for flight.
No need for concern, the brushes are moving;
The flight is secure, dreams always swooning.
The flight of the dream, lives on in the head.
Each painting gives strength to The Fire's fine stead.
The flight can be changed, flight in mid yonder.
The flight is so high; to each painting more wonder.
The flight of the dreams, lend more than desire.
The images flight, lives on in The Fire.
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