Never-Neverland

sleepy in the hollow is my cephas, one arm folded casually on his grizzly stomach, the other resting and supporting his forehead. today is as wonderful as the breeze that listlessly blows whispers through the air. today i bought a river hat and strode through the streets, the flame of golden buttercups trailing my footsteps. i was lifted in the air, and songs of old tales burst forth from my lips. so good is the day, so good is the wind, so good are us too.