And so, within the mind of man, <br /> The cauldron spits. <br /> Then births the sprite <br /> Capable of freedom <br /> From confining earth. <br /> <br /> Scattered papers on the floor <br /> A ball of string <br /> To take the strain <br /> A pot of paste <br /> For thin shaved wood. <br /> <br /> Soon, up upon a wind swept moor, <br /> A boy is taken. <br /> Holding fast the token <br /> Of his father's love <br /> And childhood memories. <br /> <br /> First heard, screams of delight. <br /> Then flowing tears, <br /> As the sprite tears <br /> The grip and soars aloft <br /> To dance with the clouds.<br /><br />Irene C S ClarkHogg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dancing-with-the-clouds/
