Out there amongst the land of time
A poem was begun with a touch of rhyme
Or then again if you look real close
It may only appear in quite a small dose,
But what's this I hear, from my own little mind
I do tell lies, you'll see you knows

Off in this land, of laughter and glee
Looksie here, here sat a flee
What this flee says do you know?
Of course you don't, for you're a foe,
You're not a foe, is that what you say?
Well I don't care, oh hey, nay, hey

A dance was danced
They jumped around
Did a twirl, a pirouette
Spell it right and woopsie day

Away the tables went I say
Away the table went to play
With a jump and a whistle
A hiss of a thistle
Off the tables went to play

Perhaps by now you wonder here
What this world is about
That I cannot answer
For it's your mind that must find out

A bit of philosophy
Listen up now
Close your ears
Open your mouth,
Today is a day, just one
365 in a year
Three hundred and sixty-five,
So waste time in this world
And live in reality

Bears shall bump
Ghost in the noon do jump
Oh the mice that scare them

Here's a tip, take it please
When you read, be anyone but yourself

A riddle for that fasting mind
Answer it and you'll be right,
Second to none I am but one
First to last I am but fast

The clouds atop the prairie sat
Like dreams upon the mind
Appearance, darkness you may find
Only at night, by day it's fine
Walking through night time's gaze
With my eyes closed it's less like a maze

I'di'die
O'di'de
E'do'da
A'die'di

In this world the grass is not pink
The sky's not green either
But the water grows up
And the flowers grow down,
Birds tweet bubbles
Cats sing silence

A hogwash ate a boot today
It spat it quite right out
And then so sleepy in its head, it wished it had been may,
For when may comes it rests its mind
And sleeps for whole minutes five
And once that's done it's nice it finds
To eat more boots without limits
In the end tis just a world
One that may be found
Take a chance, believe me now
Take my word and search

So on a final note these words do end
With a dream that shall not mend,
Now what this poem is you'll see
Is nothing more than fantasy