You remember that summer evening, under
The North Star, on a cane mat in the courtyard, when
Your grandmother, with a chuckle and a pat, turned
You into the Flower Prince on a flying wooden horse, on
The quest to find the Silver Princess, the flower-picker’s daughter

You remember how the adventure ended, how
The Flower Prince returned home on the flying horse, with
His Princess, to rule the land until eternity, and how your
Grandmother urged you to close your eyes and how
You turned her wobbly knees into a pillow

You remember those magical few seconds between the end
Of the adventure and the coming of the dreamless sleep, and
You realise, you are trapped in that moment until eternity, between
The adventure and the dreamless sleep, where you are the lone star, on
A dark stage in an empty auditorium