I hold not sword nor saber,
nor knife or arrow or bow,
nor all the money in the world,
not bronze or silver or gold

But there upon my palm
rests more power than all of those,
its weightless form is worth
much more than a treasure trove

It will soar above the mountain,
and go wheeling to the sky,
it will fly across the ocean
and travel far and wide

The feathery touch,
the breifest glimpse,
the splash of color,
a living wish

They gather when the fields are green,
beneath the golden sun,
they gather in the meadow,
ready for some fun

They run amongst the grass,
waving above their heads,
they skip into a circle,
and gladly, catching hands:

they hop to the left and spin to the right,
they sing their happy tunes,
while others play the fiddle and fife
upon a gray mushroom

In and out they weave around,
threading through the daisies,
Up and down they dance around
to the skies music is raising

I was going through my now-famous "random scraps" drawer and I found this old journal entry from 2005. I would have been fifteen then, and this particular entry chronicles one of the many times I allowed my imagination to run away with me - literally. I was completely in earnest when I wrote it, but it is hysterical to read now. I can only roll my eyes at the thought of how scared I really and truly was at the time.
Just thought you all would enjoy this.

October 3, 2005

March 3, 1535

October 7, 2008
Dear my fellow apricotpie-ians,

Not snow, nor rain,
nor hail, nor sleet...

Or barking dogs or aching feet,

Or crazy kids or funny hats,
or packages and heavy sacks

Nor great windy twisters
that drop in from Kansas
Nor bamboo forests
with black-and-white pandas

Nor iron gates or garbage cans
or blistering, barren destert lands

Nor wolves that howl with all their might,
nor spooky shadows in the night

Nor chocolate cake or cinnamon,
Nor baking soda or fishes' fins

I've got to tell you something,
a strange story indeed,
it happened just yesterday,
when I went out, you see...

I went to town to see my friends,
but my friends did not see me.
It was such an odd feeling,
this invisibility.

It must've been the cloak I wore
that made me so transparent,
or maybe it was a trick of the light,
though I'm not so scientific

Whenever I waved or said hello
they'd no response to give,
my voice went through their ears just like
clear water through a sieve

Chapter the Twentieth

Chapter Eight