My Castle in the Air

I have been told a hundred times

The very worst of all my crimes

Is my habit of building castles in the air.

I set my sights and reach up high;

I strap on wings and strive to fly

To my castle, so captivating and fair.

Stubbornly, I dismiss the pleas

To stay on earth, ignore the breeze

Whose tantalizing whispers swirl through my hair,

Telling me incredible tales

Of roaring waves, buffeting sales,

Of a dragon's flames, guarding treasures in his lair;

The wolf who howls to a silver moon,

The elves who sing a carefree tune,

And the shining armor a knight is known to wear;

Of who I am, and things I love,

Of my castle, floating high above,

Promising that someday, somehow I will be there.

But a persistent voice always shouts,

Professing fears and logical doubts;

A part of me refuses to take the dare.

Yet tell me what poor, frozen soul

Could live and neglect a heartfelt goal,

Without every heavy breath laced with despair?

And so I boldly take a chance,

Feet ready in a battle stance,

For a crashing fall from the sky I prepare.

Determined, I pick up my tools,

Proud to be called the queen of fools,

And to that castle I begin to build a stair.