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Nik Bland Jun 2013
Climb your beanstock high
Childhood memories, they fade
Although they never do say why
Step on clouds in the sky
Riches await to greet your glance
As to hollow earth you say goodbye

One foot clothed and one bare
Holding tattered dress as you race home
Picking pumpkin fragments from your hair                                              
Worry not if your cupboard's bare
They may lock you up and lock you in
But the fitting piece will soon be there                

Take my hand, touch the sky
Let the rushing wind sing to you
As we head towards the second star to the right
To the dawn we'll race and pierce the night
Fairytales carry a dream
And provide glimmering eyes till  morning light

— The End —