• Peaceful child do you dream
    of crimson roses in the Spring?
    Or lush apple trees in the Fall?

    Stirring child do you sense
    my ghostly aura in the air?
    Or feel it creeping across the floor?

    Frightened child do you hear
    the silent creeek of my step?
    Or the loud whisper of my voice?

    Gazing child do you see
    a mystical being before your eyes
    Or a vile demon in disguise?

    Curious child will you come
    and spin flax-golden tales with me?
    Or stay and cower in your bed?

    Come dear child, take this magic hand
    for it is the silver-trimmed key
    to your sweetest dreams
    and banished nightmares!

    Worry naught, for someday you will return…
    to rest once more your head upon the pillow…
    and prepare again for your mind to take flight.

    All I ask is that you come—
    stride with me through crimson fields
    and lush apple orchards in the Fall.