Imagination takes me
into lonely, lost, grey grounds,
Where Magic hangs on Moonbeams,
and silent music sounds.
Where, poised upon the evening
smiles the summer Moon,
Flirting with the Ocean,
Clothed in silver shoon.
Where shy, soft beams are busy
wrapping up the trees,
With a band of silver,
Mirrored by still seas.
Where Poppy Charms are peeping,
spread by whispering wings,
Where crystal waves are sleeping,
and Starlight quietly clings.
It's here my dreams are woven
with a Magic thread,
Stealing down the darkness,
by a Shadow led.
Look deep into the thought-threads,
explore the tideless sea,
Where grey Imagination paints
in colour, just for me.
by
Shirley Frances Winskill 1985
