Tuesday, 1 March 2011


Winding pathway through the conifers
Takes us to a milk-white cloud 
And, busrting through in an instant of snow-flakes,
We stare disbelievingly at the wonders of the night.

See the tortoise race the hare,
Hear the long grass whispering, 
Feel someone calling out,
Know you're in paradise.

Strange eyes in well-known faces
Glance our way in surprise
As we take to the stage and star
In our very own première. 

With our bright lights or
Our smiling faces or
Our effortless performance or
Our sound of applause,

Hoping that Grandma
Will be proud of us. 

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