Where does magic live?
Suspended, on a swing.
In sunlight, moonlight.
In dusty books and a light switch.
In the first bite, first sip, first kiss.
In open fields, water, crossy roads and ditches.
In stretched out lungs, held up by wind
I take life too seriously
When in the end, magic lives
Suspended, on a swing
Perhaps a hidden dream,
What’s already in.
written by me, your muse-fairy.