The world is an oyster.
more like a canvas wrapped around a large balloon.
that is how it floats.
the grass is the kind from Easter,
the clouds just brush strokes floating along.
trees are tiny dots, and all the humans and animals are too minuet to see.
the spinning sounds like an old chain link swing.
and the sun is a flash light, shinning so bright.
and the stars are glitter, in every color you could imagine.
and there is yarn stuck to it that makes the mountains.
the water is play dough to remind you of when we were young.
and it seems so small,
it is yours to go wherever you please.
and in one whisper