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Simply a blank page,
Black and dusty, awaiting the solid soothing strokes
That form the egg white lie of worlds that do not exist:
Worlds created with a sweep of a hand.
Buried beneath flourishing tendrils of waving seaweed,
Mermaids and sea castles
Await the creation of King Triton.
As he materializes, a thunderous tumult
Explodes through the heavy salt water.
Buried beneath grains of whipping sand,
Pyramids and Egyptian Pharaohs
smolder under the scorching sun.
The Nile River winds its way through the middle
Like a thin piece of cerulean sky
Surprised to find itself on land.
Buried beneath the shade of leafy green trees,
Hansel and Gretel traipse through the woods,
Nearing the Gum-Drop chocolate covered cottage.
Shrill screams pierce the stagnant air
As the oven glows and the witch cackles.
These worlds belong to those
Who hold the cherry red chalk,
To those who carry the images in the mind’s eye.
No one can sense the sting of sand,
Nor the clean fragrance of the forest air
And the taste of sweet milk chocolate
But the creator.
Everyone else simply skims the surface
Of the wild universes created within
The black and dusty chalkboard.