somewhere high in the singing tree
my carefree spirit confidently perches
while the branch dances to the melody.
somewhere this sunshine soaked child
wades through whispering emerald meadows
leaping over reed-spiked shallow bog
circumnavigating half-baked cow-pats.
slinging gold-tinged arms outwards and
jubilantly raising my face to the sky,
I spin like a whirlwind,
increasing to gyroscopic speed
until dizziness trips me
to tumble into a grassy pillow
my laughter a cave of joyous echoes
somewhere my spirit sinks into repose
no threatening spectre dare hide in my head
no gnashing troll with flashing eyes
my parents have banished them from the kingdom.
© Jane Paterson Basil