home




 * There was a little girl, with a bookcase for a heart. Whose dusty, lonely shelves, longed for swan songs to impart. **
 * And came a dawn hued book, with pages stained which dwell, in worlds of wondering whimsy, which reality could not quell. **
 * With lashes softly crotched, around lyric violet eyes, the little girl looked up, to tug boats clearing skies. **
 * A night where stars would fly, instead of tarnished fall. And where a bookcase for a heart, was not a bad thing after all. **