clasped lids, the dream boxes
open with soft angel wings
glass cabinets
infinite possibilities
flutter on the shoulder
whispering dreams
gentle wings quiver
through pairs of ears like pink shells
into orbits of fantasy where
lightning speed imaginations whirring
wheels of ice creams, swings, sugar
all things bright and white
the tiny wings are swirling, guiding sleep
now they turn back
floating, slipping onto the past
the box snaps shut
as magic childhood dust gathers over
sleeping heads.
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