In a barren wasteland,









sits a shabby little thing,









made of eight splintered pieces,






arranged in a cube like fashion.







The entire thing is about,








five feet tall,












the door only big enough,








for very small dwarfs.









The carpet on the floor has bugs,





Feeding on last years spilled juice





it smells slightly of mildew,







the roof sags in the middle,








The ceiling is not high enough,
to allow an adult to stand up,
and the “door” is a hole in one wall.
The “building” has never seen paint.

It seems as though,
the end of the world took place,
on this small piece of land,
and so, it is always avoided.

Except, for four months,
out of every year,
when it transforms,
into a castle.

Suddenly the carpet,
is a marvelous marble floor,
slick and shining,
under the light from the “windows”.

The mice and bugs,
become mighty companions,
and the sagging roof,
a pathway to the star.

The dead weeds all around,
become tall towering forests,
and the dirt surrounding,
a dangerous moat with sharks.

And for those four months,
shrieks, laughs, and giggles,
can be heard in the place,
where the world once ended.