When night falls my bed is an air balloon.
I sail through the slipsiverse, close by the moon.
I float above treetops where the nub-nubs are sleeping
and flowering hills where the whifflepigs go creeping;
ponds strung with starlight that glitter like glass,
a floog with its velvet nose bent to the grass.
Such treasures I count on. My bed in the trees
swings me up high, like a circus trapeze.
Now the cool, night-rustling air
slips through my finger-gaps, ripples my hair;
now we glide over water, the moon's silver light
blown by a cloudpuff into the bight,
adrift on the sea where the dream-shapes float;
when night falls my bed is a sailing boat.
When night falls my bed is a sailing boat
adrift on the sea where the dream-shapes float,
blown by a cloudpuff into the bight.
Now we slide over water; the moon's silver light
laps at my finger-gaps, ripples my hair;
now the cool, night-rustling air
swings me up high, like a circus trapeze.
Such treasures I count on my bed in the trees -
a floog with its velvet nose bent to the grass,
ponds strung with starlight that glitter like glass
and flowering hills where the whifflepigs go creeping.
I float above treetops where the nub-nubs are sleeping;
I sail through the slipsiverse, close by the moon.
When night falls my bed is an air balloon.
A beautifully presented picture book with two front covers, the text can be read from front to back and vice versa. The mirror form poem meets in the middle in a stunning centrepiece image as the two children in the story (twins, one in an air balloon, the other a sailing boat) meet in the clouds!
