Tag Archives: magic

The Land of Picture Books

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Animals talk,
Toys come to life,
Anything is possible
In the Land of Picture Books.

Fairies fly,
Mermaids swim,
Princesses dance
In their castles.
Magic happens
In the Land of Picture Books.

Witches cast spells!
Giants crunch bones!
Trolls hide under bridges!
Even fairy tale villains are real
In the Land of Picture Books.

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Magical Dancer

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Dancers kick up legs!

One kicks so fast,

She almost flies.

Kicks so high,

Curls up in the air.

Like a flying bulb

Waiting to bloom,

Like a butterfly,

About to emerge.

 

Butterfly returns to Earth,

Grabs arm of other dancer,

Holds on for dear life,

Then flies.

 

Sprinkling fairy dust,

Golden garment glittering

In light.

 

Smiles a smile of power,

Ready to enchant audience.

Works magic, waving hands.

She’s enchanted me.

 

I, too, can fly.

I, too, can dance.

I am beautiful.

Was I before?

Has she changed me?

Or opened my eyes?

What Friends Do

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With a friend, you can

Be fairies and work magic,

Fly kites,

Look at flowers,

Travel,

Put on shows.

 

With a friend,

You can goof around,

Tell silly puns,

And laugh.

 

Friends give you energy,

So you can be maniacs,

And monkey about!

But you’ll stick together

Even when it’s quiet time!

 

A friend will help

If you’re upset,

Even when it’s hard.

 

Whether itty-bitty,

Or very tall,

A friend is more precious

Than any jewel.

 

It’s nice to know,

A true friend

Will never betray you.

At the end of the day,

The week,

The month,

The year,

Your friendship will live on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flower Magic

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Near flowers, far flowers,

Linger in the air.

I smell there there, I smell them here,

I smell them everywhere.

Some have very strong scents,

Some I cannot see,

But some folks can smell them while in the ground,

And one of them is me!

Yes, these flowers have not bloomed yet,

But I know where they hide!

I sniff the patches of soil,

And smell them while inside!

I visit these patches daily,

I wait for them to bloom.

I sing them out of the soil:

“Come out!  There is plenty of room!”

When they bloom, I dance with them,

And they sing back to me.

When tired, I sit still upon

The branches of a tree.

When the flowers close, I know

That it’s time to go back home.

But I hear them whisper “Come again!”

And I know I’ll back there roam.