Poetry

Fantasy

A charmingly fairytale cottage in Epcot's World Showcase

There is a world of blossoms fair to see,

Of darkness, dismal circumstance

And heroism free.

But lo! This world is hard to find

Though clear before the eye,

A world that lives inside ourselves

Transcending ordinary life.

Come along, pretend with me!

Tell me what it is you see?

Before my eyes, behold! The sun

Shines brightly through the leaves,

Bathing lightly forest floors

In transcending hues ablaze.

This sylvan peace hearkens to rest,

Reminiscent of the Beast's enchanted rose

Within the heart bids joy,

The simple joy of nature, free…

But wait! That is reality.

Again, a sight before my eyes,

Of ruins, rubble, damaged dreams

Collapsed around an ancient home.

Weeds, tall standing, lick her windows

With sticking tongues, respect devoid.

Her pavement cracked, her aspect dark,

Her roof in shambles, paint peeling.

The sorrow of man’s fragility…

But no! Again reality.

Now, I see! Here, A Viking ship

Her maiden voyage commences –

Her bows by waters furious lapped,

As through hearty waves she fights.

Her sails spread wide, her path unsure,

Nearly! She succumbs. But lofty

Yet and nonetheless her glory

She maintains, fighting, floats does she…

But no, again that’s history.

And now! A scene of battles great,

Of mercy strong, and gentleness,

Courage, beauty, heroism,

The highest heights of human love,

Before mine eyes presents itself.

A couple’s joy, a warrior’s feat,

A kingly crown, a friendly touch…

But no again! Reality.

What then is fantasy?

A world of wizards, hobbits, Elves,

Epic battles, will o’ the wisps,

Enchanted wardrobes, rings of pow’r…

These dwell within fantastic realms,

But, too, within reality.

These elements, they do exist

Though fantastical they seem,

In truth, in love, in courage strong,

The epic qualities of man

The traits of fantasy, they live.

The loves of life, the challenges,

These, epic experiences,

Provide the glass through which to glimpse

Glimmering worlds of fantasy.

These times in life, a window are

Into the soul of man.

For this is fantasy.

A world of blossoms fair to see,

Of darkness, dismal circumstance

And heroism free.

But lo! This world is hard to find

Though clear before the eye,

A world that lives inside ourselves

Transcending ordinary life.

Come along, pretend with me!

Tell me what it is you see?