Once in a moon
you walk in a room,
like you belong.
Once or twice in a life,
When the weather is nice,
And the sun heats up the sky
You will hear a unicorn sigh.
Just now and then
for a smidgen of time
You believe you are
The subject of a song.
If you lay, for a week and a day,
Watch the sun play in the trees.
You’ll see faeries take up a dance,
On the warmth of the incoming breeze.
By holding the thread at end of your bed,
You get to tug it once in your dreams.
The world turns blue especially for you,
And magic exists … So it seems.
pictures by pixabay