Imagination

One night in sleep I found my antiquated bed, tired of lasting confinement, decided to fly out. On wings of bed-sheet turning to a soaring swan, it started to flutter away before I could thwart. I clutched in fear the flapping wings lest I fall, through my bemused eyes I looked up skyward, saw from the sapphire sky the sparkling stars beckon me and I heard their sequined summon. The bed flew to an alien land beyond the horizon, where the scarlet sun was stuck in the silken sky. The flying bed got draped in spectral royal robe, landed in a flamboyant valley of flushing flowers. Encircled by fairies I was in a trance on the floral bed, all the unseen dreams I left dormant so long returned. These were not in black and white, but in halcyon hues, carved in kaleidoscopic contours, my heart patterned.