The Golden Gates

In the land of Memories,

I spilled through the golden gateway, to meet a mesmerising river, picnic basket lining the olive tree grass, filled with precious smells.

In the land of Memories,

Hammocks hung from blossoming blossom trees, whilst small, dazzling, infinity stones pebbled the rainbow fairy paths.

In the land of Memories,

a swing swung hopelessly, as if a playful child had just clambered onto the shiny, tired out seat.

In the land of Memories,

Children’s laughs echoed around the bright sunny woods, shattered glass cobwebs, hanging desperately to rickety trees.

In the land of Memories,

Humming birds sang and swooped, sang and swooped, loop-the-lopping proudly, putting on a show.

In the land of Memories,

I drank from the pool of truth and honesty, then soon after, feasted on skinned grapes and pots and pots of jelly beans.

In the land of Memories,

I hopped into a crest-fallen, star shaped boat, and was taken down shore into a gathering of trumpets playing the perfect melancholy melody, on the mists of the majestic moonlit beach.

In the land of Memories,

Spades stuck out the sand like marsh mallows on skewers, as buckets lay next to them, as if waiting to be filled by a child.

In the land of Memories,

Stars swirled in and out of the constellations, like small, but mighty ballerinas, dressed in big, pouffy, tutus, like fairy lights.

In the land of Memories,

Speech was lost when you caught a glimpse of the giant, red blood moon, splattered across the stretched-out sky.

In the land of Memories,

Boats soared out of the tired moor, and whisked me away back up the running, river, to the still forest.

In the land of Memories,

A harp played a sorrowful melody, but that quickly changed into  hard rock and roll, heavy metal, to keep the devil at bay.

In the land of Memories,

Moose rolled over the plants growing freely, waiting to be stroked and ridden.

In the land of Memories,

Organs blew as loud as they could manage, as candles whistled, and lit their fire, till their wax melted, and spilled across the gravel and dirt.

In the land of Memories,

I finally skipped cheerfully, out of the bright golden gates!

By Freya