Written February 15, 2025
A Magical Journey Contest
by Constance la France
I hold three magic rocks in my hand Over and over and over I roll them leaving this reality far behind Into enchanted mist, I stroll then How do I know it's magic? Because a tiny man beckons, as I pause What's going on? I try hard to think Then, Tinyman laughs, gives me a wink. I follow through a tiny green door. I'm suddenly small, tumbling before landing amid blossoms' tangled scent and faeries wondering my intent! This land has soft, watercolor skies, heart-shaped clouds, a lavender sunrise Where faeries dance each night until dawn then leave faerie circles on each lawn They're delightful in every way, I'd like to stay awhile, if I may! Oh, Raggedy Ann is here, I see and my old baby doll that could wee. And my dolls made of paper so light with lovely clothes to change til alright And Scarlet O'Hara, with dark curls and pretend makeup only for girls! Sometimes recalling childhood brings tears The fleeting moments of passing years Memories linger of younger days before Time and Childhood parted ways. Childhood is now seen only in dreams And, faeries have traveled on, it seems Tinyman now just appears in mists To remind us magic still exists... if we believe
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