The Night Writer

At night things happen,both strange and mad,
I love recalling the times that I've had.
This poem is written to help you understand,
What life is like in my fantasy land.

Feathers fly,free as a dove
Dream catchers hang from the ceilings above.
Ships sail in the air in my room overhead,
I sing songs to sooth the beast under the bed.
With the moon as the sun,the fairies fly,
The smell of vanilla lingers,though I know not why.
My room can be a castle,I bow before the king,
My room can hold a dragon with scale,claw and wing.
In the day I find sunlight too bright and too cruel,
But once the sun sets this is my kingdom to rule,

The stories not over don't fear,don't fret,
How could it be over? The sun's not up yet.