"Sometimes stories cry out to be told in such loud voices that you write them just to shut them up." ~Stephen King.

She gallops along mountains

Dances in the desert

Wind blowing back her hair

You see her everywhere

Around every corner

In the shadow of every rainbow

Freely she runs

Gliding across oceans

Flying with the stars

She never stops

Never slows.

Imagination is she;

Able to do what anyone only dreams of,

Especially the child,

Who holds the key,

Because who has more imagination than he?