Phantasy

Day-dreaming, capable by children; culpable by adults.
Hope; Her hope, with youthful resilience,
will not be diminished by inevitable disappointments: 

A child plays dress up in the yard.
Appareled in white night-shirt and mom’s red housecoat.
And with high heeled shoes adorning too small feet
but the oversize disregarded as simply a minor inconvenience
to today’s dream, of knights on white horses riding to the maiden’s rescue.

All that is missing is a proper headdress, a tiara.
Maybe not appropriate for The Queen, but certainly, that of a Princess.
And now she is fully garbed in finery, we can continue her fantasy,
but where are the appropriate royal admirers
of a long ago court -- mid-evil days.

Did they wear high heels then? Aw, who cares,
and after all, it will not deter
from our child’s fantasy dream this day.

Cars pass in the street but are they autos to our imaginative youth?

She thinks, "What magnificent chariots with gladiators reining four matched horses
and here come more elaborate carriages with eight horses
with a footman wearing high-hat and Coronation uniform riding the lead horse.

This great entourage is uniquely conveyed on the winds;
There is not the usual clatter of hooves on cobblestones;
This must be so, only to give credence to the real
and philosophical laws predicated by
Newton, Aristotle and let’s throw in Leonardo daVinci just to "cover the bags."

She admonishes, "And how nice! The Royalty
I invited to attend my spontaneously created Grande Ball
has arrived and precisely on time 11:30 Am MST-- not Greenwich."

The murmurings are heard from the Royals,
"Oh my, how magnificent is this child Princess"
and then the bowing, even groveling,
before our newly ordained young princess,
and she, in full resplendent regal grandeur;

Her attire of hand embroidered white lace gown and
oriental woven red silk robe imported from China, emblazoned
with jewels from Egypt and gold braid from Africa.
These refinements all specially collected when
Jason pursued the Golden Fleece and then carried
the pre-selected goods for the Princess
by ship, the Argo, and carriage to arrive in time for her Regal Ball.

And is she wearing glass slippers?
And why not, ‘magic’ glass slippers?
Why not the very same slippers worn by Cinderella
bejeweled with reflective facets refracting the light rays 
emanating everywhere from myriads of candles 
in the Great Hall of her, Princess’ Castle.

The jewels on her slippers, with conservative appraisal,
far exceeding the English Queen’s crown.

Whoops, ‘Actuarially,' we skipped one little millennium.
And the same must be noted about the high-heeled glass slippers.
Oh little to matter, to she, who can in-vision that which she wishes! Eh?

Oh! But what curse be evoked upon our princess now
for imagining wearing the same glass slippers worn by Cinderella!!
Let us worry about this problem later as – The Ball has started.

Oh heck! We have to introduce some reality, and so:
Now a little reality:
Now, did those magic glass slippers, 
conveyed to our New Millennium Princess of imagination,
 come directly from the witch’s dungeon by Air Canada 
air-mail -- before bankruptcy and now require an indentured payment
to be extolled at an inopportune time? 
Oh! Oh! Pay-up time and with Chretien's 7% GST tax on top?

There is always a debt to be extracted, as equal pay,
for fanciful mesmerizing and it will be extolled from our oblivious Princess!

Of coarse the slippers brought along a bewitched curse?
Could not the elegant apparel, the admiring royalty,
the chariots and the elegant carriages pulled by prancing stallions
all disappear, not at mid-night, but a high-noon? 
The clock is ticking from the start of her Ball, at 11:30Am MST.

Will her ethereal phantasy flash away in the glint of mid-afternoon sunlight?
Will her fine imagined adornments also be lost for all time at 12:00 noon?
Oh! I think not,
for this child is living with reality, 
and she is more than a mere dreamer of dreams.
She has imagination that will transmit her love of creative thought,
ever expanding her mental horizons,
ever widening her creativity,
 ever charging her love for life;
ever envisioning for her a new and better world
in which juveniles from countries in militant turmoil
can lay down their Kalishnikov-AK-74 rifles and -- play ball.

I’d guess she will be a 21'st century poet 
and write for the Web at no charge.
She will proclaim to others with suppressed lives and
little time for imaginative thought
that hope need only be positioned into the mind
and there it will grow to ecstatic heights
and phantasy will be made evident with self enlightenment
with no need to watch TV or attend any cinema.

She recognizes the corrupt reality of the current world,
and possesses the creativity to promote the virtues of a better world.
Her youthful aspirations will prevail
over adult learned conformity to convention;
Hope; Her hope, with youthful resilience,
will not be diminished by inevitable disappointments. 

"And me? ‘Oh! If only I could be such a happy dreamer as she?
Oh, mighty Zeus, please allow me to rub
the magic lantern ordaining imaginary thought?’

But what would I ask of the magic genie slumbering in the lamp?
Maybe: ‘Genie, allow me one more chance
to transgress back to juvenile innocence.
Yes, to be a child again, to dream the fantasies of participating
in wondrous events with no thoughts prearranged by society, 
its warped reality and inevitable consequence of negative enlightenment:

Genie, I ask for just one belated repose, to start life over, 
to turn on the facets again that emit illumination
 but this time with imbedded virtuous insights
 observed, but not gained, from experience. 
And redirect my present precipitous path toward barren consciousness
 to that of the glorious imagination of this uninhibited child.’" jkr