( For the visually challenged reader, the image shows a lantern sitting on the wet sand of a beach. There are fairy lights inside the lantern)
An age-old magic lantern, full of mystery
Stories long forgotten, of wishes made.
A land where people hide from evil genius.
Grown from mind in need of magic
Of miracles, of wonder, to be carried to a land
Where blue horses roam on desert sand
Where angels sit and chat with wings folded
Time to pray another day they say.
The Lord is patient
He will not mind your prayer delayed
It shall be answered in a time that is planned
By mind conceived before the pure light
Of our spinning world that shines through dark space
Out from old lanterns, remembering
The lady of the lamp, Nightingale
From patience made to soothe my savage mind
With light that sprang from before time began…
© Anita Dawes 2021