In Fancy

I lay upon my back,
And look up in the sky.
A filmy mass of broken clouds,
Are up there...passing by.

A child's trick,...you say,
For me to lay and look.
And imagine things are real,
Like the reading of a book.

I see the azure line of blue,
That's tucked up in between.
And the fairy-fluff of silken webs,
That is rarely...ever seen.

I see a wide and ruffled sea,
Where canyon walls appear.
Where chariots race so fast,
As great-white stallion's rear.

There's a country store...where children are,
With garlands that are grand.
Where glittering gold and pink chiffon,
Enclose a pop-corn stand.

And as I gaze in wonderment,
My traveling thoughts are deep.
The veil of vision presses down,
And finds...I am asleep.


E.P. 1908 - 1989