Frolicking breeze, the humming of bees, and Monarchs who dart to and fro

Wide awake air, seeds dance like Astaire, and off to the forest I go

To giggle and play with the nurturing boughs who look on the scene below

As a miniature frame plays her curious game of watching the grasses grow,

But her mind, alas! is wondering through hills and valleys around,

As she contemplates with no such haste how flowers can make a sound.

Suddenly, pop! This image fades and what am I to find?

But a ceiling fan and walls of tan around this bed of mine.

T'was just a dream, though it rather seemed to be my childhood land.