A Writer's Fantasy

Tattered, dog-eared, crinkled pages,
streaks and smears of fading lead.
Scribbles and notes taken through the ages,
A locked chest of priceless ideas.
Blunt red pencil in hand,
The chest’s wooden key,
like a magic wand,
stirs the inanimate pages
Ready to transform
forgotten scratches and scribbles
into a place of fantasy:
into fluttering, flying images.

Frozen in time; now unfrozen:
Orange glow melts away chains of lead.
Life creeps into characters’ empty souls
Like a coma victim awakening; they are alive.

This is not a fantasy;
This is reality.
Every writer’s dream –
A seed they planted, and the whole world grew.