by Sarah Earlene Shere, ©2024
(Mar. 2, 2024) — The doors swung open with beams of light and streams of flashing color.
A smiling man reached out his hand and beckoned me, “Come hither.”
Like piping Pan of long ago his music pulled me onward,
Till the woes of earth seemed lost upon wings of a bluebird.
Of lands so fair I wandered there and drank in all their beauty,
Of castles warm and mountains strong and residents so merry.
At night I slept in my own bed with dreams like memories,
Then woke the next and pondered when I could return to these.