Lightly dozing, cradled in the cabin that gently sways,
the travelers gaze into their hopes and dreams inside their minds.
The wishful thinking, of which they see a different day that be,
arises from the well of sleep. The track does creep along the winding way
to that of which they say is where that they would choose to be.
A drifting unwinding, over the rails of which they are gliding,
transports the thoughts away from the rushing, racing place of which was left behind.
Footsteps are heard without a word. Then an explode, of gentle voice upon the calm and cloudy, to awake.
"Willoughbeeey, next stop Willoughbeeey."
The train has stopped upon a station. This not of imagination, but of place and time as you will find.
"Willoughbeeey, we are now at Willoughbeeey."
The wishful wanderlings in awe do see a place of which they long to be.
Without hesitation the chicken flies first, with an excited burst, from the train.
Others do see such a bright happy glee and follow with an exuberant step.
The gray dog jumps with a dynamic leap.. from the rails to that place, wishfully happy and sweet.
The rest do seem as if in a stream. The flow, of which seeps from the car, is like a shooting star.
The type of which wishes are granted from, like a silver flame in song.
"Willoughbeeey, last stop Willoughbeeey!!"
Willoughby, of Sunlight and serenity be. What is it here that you do see?
