The Child and the Crystal Sphere

A youth, alone in his room,

Stumbled upon a wondrous boon,

A globe of snow, clear and bright,

Whose magic power took his sight.

"Oh, what a sight!" the child exclaimed,

As he was drawn into the frame,

Of this strange world, so full of grace,

That filled his heart, with love and space.

The child was drawn inside its sphere,

To lands beyond, not far or near,

Of twisted paths, both high and low,

Of shapes unknown, to and fro.

"What manner of world is this I see?"

The child pondered, on bended knee,

"So full of mystery, so fair,

It fills me with a wondrous air."

A world of mystery, void of time,

With creatures strange, so sublime,

Of shifting hues, not quite defined,

And dances wild, that never decline.

He roamed and marvelled, wide-eyed and free,

In awe of all he chanced to see,

And as he basked in magic's glow,

He learned that truth and dreams both grow.

"This world, so bright, so full of life,

Fills me with joy, and frees my strife."

The child said, with a smile so wide,

"Here, I can stay, and always hide."

And so he stayed, not wanting to leave,

The world within, his soul to relieve,

Of all the pain, of all the strife,

And basked in endless joy and life.

Till waking up, he found with glee,

That magic still belonged to he,

And in his hand, the globe of snow,

A wondrous world, he could bestow.

"This world is mine, to keep and hold,

A treasure, more precious than gold."

The child declared, with a twinkle in his eye,

"And now, I can visit, whenever I fly."