There's a box filled with miracles,
In the closet that I keep.
A blanket of fireflies
on the bed that I sleep.
I have a woolen cap of dreams
and I wear that and roam,
around the little place with dim lights,
that I've been calling home.
On the ceiling, dangle with strings
the imaginations that glow.
On the table lies glittering memories,
arranged in a row.
In that little space under the bed.
I've stacked a million wishes in tiny jars.
A wind chime of peace hung beside the window.
The ringing melody of a thousand stars..
The walls are painted with nostalgia
and the enchanting moon's silver light.
There's glitter sprinkled on the floor
dropped by the glittering fireflies.
There are also curtains of creativity
that turn alive, every night.
A big pillow of sweet comfort
that makes everything alright.

I stand beside the window pane.
Just stare sometimes, when I'm alone..
wander down the memory lane,
to that little place with dim lights
that I've been calling home.