Volumes of Fantasy

A traveling friend from long ago
Came bound with cotton thread.
Full of words, he spoke of spells
And left with gold instead.

Still, I wandered, still half blind
To where he'd really gone.
It wasn't he that I looked for,
But what he'd come upon:

A world where people lived for love
And died for what was good,
Where money came with silly names
As silly treasures should.

Where evil found a second chance
If it looked hard enough,
Where homes were built on love alone
And fairy tales were tough.

How hard I looked,
How free I felt
To be bound by magic spells!
To wash the hand that fate had dealt
And all the wishing wells!

The traveler came bounding back,
Still bound, but painted bold.
Telling me this place to be
If dreams were turned to gold.

*Inspired by my Harry Potter reading experience