Sleeping Beauties

Castles in the sky,
It’s what we used to call clouds.
Back when it was ok to run around with dirt stained knees,
Mouths purple from berry picking.

Perched on hills,
They were not always castles.
Sometimes:
Dragons breathing cotton,
Ghost ships, with sails of snow,
Soft white horses galloping through the blue.

Now get up, gallop through the woods,
Dig toes into sand
Look for clams.
Covered in mud from splashing in creeks,
Soon you will be cleaned.
Tiny wolves;
Hunting for frogs and fireflies.

Well we would catch them,
Told they were not ours to keep.
So in the dusk,
Fireflies freed from handmade cages,
Castle clouds gilded with gold and draped with purple,
We picked out the towers we would call home.

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