Narrative poetry, The grand tour
I guess it was just a dream, but it seemed so real
The sky turned deadly dark when the wind began to howl and blow
Picking little Jessie up from his yard
Tossing him to-and-fro
Drifting over mountains and valleys far below
Gushing rivers, twirling eddies rising high up in the sky
Jessie mesmerized as he miraculously begins to fly
Locating treasures inside the fluffy rolling white clouds devine
Looking over a rainbow at a sparkling pot of gold
Wondering, " Could it possibly be mine? "
Just then a beautiful white swan appears and tells Jessie, " Climb aboard
We'll see beauty made by our heavenly father, our lord "
They floated upward and saw this city with streets made of glittery gold
People were laughing and singing hymns of yesterday foretold
The swan turned about and began to gently descend
Jessie holding on tightly and feeling secure
Wishing the journey would never end
Jessie woke up hearing his mother's soft and sweet sounding voice
Holding him tenderly
Clearly feeling the need to rejoice
Seems a limb had broken on the old weeping willow tree
A visible lump on his head
Was being inspected lovingly
Listening carefully, hearing his mother say, " Oh my that was a close call for sure
Jessie thinking, " I guess it was all just a funny dream, but it seemed so real
When the white swan took me flying on a most magnificent grand tour.
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