A Land Called Elsewhere

A Land Called Elsewhere

by M. F. B. Porter

There is a place that I go,

Though I don’t know the way

In a minute of an hour

Of-- I don’t know the day.

It is a land of creatures

And people alike,

Of deserts and forests

And oceans and pike

It is a plain of many

colors and shapes,

Of weather and patterns

In all the forms that they take.

I go there to want and to dream

And to play

With little fairies, with magic

And to keep the nightmares at bay

All In a Land Called Elsewhere

Is where I have my fun

Every day, all day,

Until days there are none.