In a land where rules are made,
A curious thought began to wade.
“The law must be obeyed,” they say,
“For breaking it is not the way.”
“But why must we follow this decree?”
Asked a voice from the old oak tree.
“Because the law is what we must heed,
To break it is an unlawful deed.”
“But why is breaking it so wrong?”
The question lingered, soft yet strong.
“Because the law says so, you see,
And thus, it must be followed strictly.”
Around and round the logic spun,
A circle danced, a web was spun.
For in this land of rules and might,
The answer lay in circular light.
The law must be obeyed, it’s clear,
Because to break it brings us near,
To the very thing we must avoid,
A loop of logic, neatly deployed.

In dreams, she floats on rivers made of light,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
A girl with eyes like kaleidoscopes,
She wanders through a land of cellophane flowers,
Where colours blend and dance in harmony.
The sun, a golden orb, smiles down on her,
As rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
She drifts past fields of towering blooms,
Their petals whispering secrets to the wind.
In this surreal world, time stands still,
And newspaper taxis wait by the shore,
To carry her to realms unknown and vast,
Where imagination reigns supreme and free.
Lucy, in the sky with diamonds bright,
A symbol of the wonder in our minds,
She guides us through the labyrinth of dreams,
Where every turn reveals a new delight.

Goodbye, Yesterday
Yesterday lingers like a shadow,
A whisper of what was, a ghost of dreams.
It held my hand through fleeting moments,
But now, I must let go.
Memories are etched in the twilight,
Fading with the dawn of today.
I see your face in the morning mist,
But the sun rises, and you disappear.

Goodbye, yesterday,
With your laughter and your tears,
Your promises and your regrets.
You were a chapter in my story,
But the pages turn, and I must move on.
In the silence of the night,
I hear your echoes, soft and distant.
You were the canvas of my past,
But today, I paint anew.

Goodbye, yesterday,
You were a friend, a foe, a lesson learned.
I carry your wisdom in my heart,
But my journey calls me forward.
Today I move on.

Day Fades
Twilight takes
Stars chase
Pillows soft
Dreams aloft
Moonlight dances
Silver calls
Night whispers
Guide to sleep
Blankets wrap
Warm and Tight
Night guardians
Eyes heavy
Breathing slows
Slumbers arms
Gently sleep
Tomorrow waits
For now, Rest Quiet
Dream far and free
As stars watch

It was January last Wednesday,
When the moon turned bright green,
The stars danced a tango,
And the sun wore a sheen.
The clouds sang a lullaby,
To the mountains so high,
While the rivers played hopscotch,
With the fishes passing by.
The trees whispered secrets,
To the birds in the air,
And the flowers wore hats,
Made of chocolate eclairs.
The wind told a joke,
That made the rocks laugh,
And the grass did a jig,
On the giraffe’s behalf.
So if you see a rainbow,
On a snowy summer’s day,
Just remember this tale,
Of January last Wednesday.

In the heart of a bustling city,  
Where time seemed still, so pretty,  
A library stood, small and quaint,  
With scents of books, ink, and paint.

But this was no ordinary place,  
It held a secret, a magical grace.  
At midnight’s chime, it came alive,  
Books would whisper, stories thrive.

Characters stepped from pages bright,  
Wandering aisles in the moonlight.  
A young girl named Lily, pure and keen,  
Found this library, like a dream.

She loved to read, her heart’s delight,  
And on that special, starry night,  
She saw the books with a gentle glow,  
Curiosity sparked, she had to know.

She touched a book, and to her surprise,  
Was pulled into a world before her eyes.  
A forest magical, creatures grand,  
Talking animals, a wondrous land.

A wise old owl, with feathers gray,  
Guided her through the forest way.  
He spoke of magic, stories’ might,  
And the library’s secret, hidden in light.

Lily explored, her heart so light,  
Meeting characters, day and night.  
Learning lessons, brave and true,  
In worlds of wonder, skies so blue.

As dawn approached, with gentle grace,  
She found herself back in the place,  
Holding the book, still softly bright,  
Her heart aglow with pure delight.

From that day on, each night she’d go,  
To the enchanted library, where stories flow.  
Adventures endless, wonders vast,  
In the world of books, her love would last.