I found this poem in my room.

Far past the mountain tops
In the valleys of the clouds
Where the dew of the moon
Fell upon the thin blades of grass
Where music comes from rain
Hitting the ground
And lightening clapping hands
With the stars
Where waterfalls splash silently
On the rivers below
The butterflies dance around the sun
Giving off light on the trees
As stained glass from their wings
Where the fruit of the tree
Is as sweet as the honey from the bee
It's down in the South
In a little town in Mississippi
Under the rainbows
Pass the pot of gold
Before you run into tornadoes
Just past the field of flowers
Inside of an old broken down train station
This little city sits
In my imagination

-Karianne Henderson, June 2nd, 2008