Her perfect land

Twirl and the circles blur,
The lines creating images,
the ceiling mirroring my feelings,
spinning me on the polished glass floor.
my reflection can be perfectly seen in it as i inspect my dress in this
wonderland of magic.
The pink silk slides gracefully over the unmarked dream,
its folded, pressed,
stiching so delicate that it camoflaged from even the most small of
eyes.
He is there in black,
a nobleman with great etseem,
He will be my night,
tonight he shall be the one to make all of my fairytale dreams
cometrue,
I shall be cinderella,
though the evil clock can never take away my happiness,
Not for the moment anyway,
no time will not take you away from me tonight,
Though when the curtains are drawn in peicing the perfect dream, no
shoe shall lead you back to me,
For you can only be here a short time.
The peicing flame already taunting the undrawn curtains,
Then mother comes and finishes you off,
Her pink lace nighty 20 times to big,
the rough tweed floor again,
that was my world that night.