Enter Poetic Land, Where Dreams Can Scream Or Wave In Sheer Terror. Poem by Michael Gale

A very magical poetic ride upon the magic carpet to imager'ied land...
Where the imagination can lead into no normal encrusted corner.
No ever ending hallowed border...
Bells fitted by elves and fairy God daughters hang slanted to face the far Eastern
Cameletch'ed land. Hear the snarkle of the witch'ed tramp...
I'll gladly and madly invade this all evil, impish, spirited camp.
Hold off oh wicked evil dread...Look out, look out, for the well hid spread.
Sprinkle mouse upon thy jersey...I hope'eth to thee a far maddening subdued
howling by the beck of the oncoming pear shaped moon.
How full? How soon? Dare i enter backwards thru that painted blackened glass? ...
Twill't my spillt fall out onto concrete or grass? A three eyed newt scampers past my oafish self...Even past that ugly elf. This land has just brought to me a tree of candy, stripped canes...They fall to head to begin my bane and pain. I awaken to a bed and a pillow...Am i not no longer below that blasted Willow? Ah yes, a poem at it's merry-fairy end...Just on down a few psychological miles, near the
winding road's long stagnated bend.