Wondrously, go and open the pink door,

perhaps there is- 

a room of freshly picked tulips, 

radiant roses

or rock hard cherry blossoms with a sweet fragrance. 

Slowly, go and open the frost door,

perhaps there is-

a field of snow with children happily making black snowmen, 

icy snow angels 

or illuminated lamp posts as magical as those in Narnia.

Happily, go and open the terra door,

perhaps there is-

a meadow of rich scented grass,

a trees as big as skyscrapers with substantial leaves

or wild, spicy mint growing around you.

Anxiously, go and open the fossil door, 

perhaps there is-

a prison with desperate eyes protruding curiously out of cells, 

armed police charging around on ground as soft as marshmallows

or suspicious handcuffs spying on potential escapees.