Posted in childhood, creative writing, dream world, dreams, fun, fun land, play, poems, poetry, sleeps, sweets, writers

Our dream land

I went to sleep to dream a dream
I closed my see so my subconscious could see
Where we will go inside of me
In my head there shall be a place
A place that made with chocolate tree
There are rivers of gold and the grass so tall
As i pass on through the sun of gold
I come to an old vintage shack Where i would reside
With nothing inside just a chair and a bed
The walls are all painted in peppermint paint 
The floors are made of flapjack and the tapes flow with wine
This is my dream land so please stop on by we can all climb to the top of table top pie

this was wrote by myself and my eldest son

fun times
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