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.