The StoryTeller

The Floor is Lava | Poem

In chambers bright, where laughter sways,
A game unfolds in childish daze,
A perilous dance in furniture led sky,
The floor, a fiery sea, flows high.

Child’s wit like lava’s flow,
Their tongue as sharp as flames that glow,
Yet in this game of youthful glee,
We’ll find a jest, you’ll agree.

Oh, the floor is lava, a whimsical tide,
Imagination’s fiery guide,
In my repose a smirk would gleam,
For even in play life’s but a dream.

The Storyteller

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