The Dream Weaver

Upon a cloud bed, soft and white, A fluffy haven, pure delight, Lay a boy, with eyes so bright, Ready to weave dreams in the night.

He wasn't just any sleepyhead, But a dream maker, it must be said! He plucked at moonbeams, silver thread, To stitch adventures in his head.

The Dreams arrived, a swirling band, Sparkling colours in their hand. Stars twinkled down, across the land, To help him on this dreaming strand.

He climbed aboard a rainbow bright, And soared into the starry night. Past whispering comets, full of light, A dizzying, joyous, magic flight!

He wrestled dragons made of cheese, And sailed on marshmallow seas. He danced with fairies in the trees, And learned to speak the bumblebee’s.

Through candy mountains, tall and grand, He explored a gingerbread land. With friendly giants, hand-in-hand, He painted pictures on the sand.

Back on his cloud bed, safe and sound, The boy unwound, spinning around. For dreams are magic, profound, Where wonder and joy can be found!