My Bed is an Air Balloon

When night falls my bed is an air balloon.

I sail through the slipsiverse, close by the moon.

I float above treetops where fluttertufts are sleeping

And flowering hills where the whifflepigs go creeping;

Ponds strung with starlight that glitter like glass,

A floog with her velvet nose bent to the grass.

Such treasures I spy on! My bed in the trees

Swings me up high, like a circus trapeze.

Now the cool, night-rustling air

Slips through my finger-gaps, ripples my hair;

Now we glide over water, the moon's silver light

Blown by a cloudpuff into the bight,

Adrift on the sea where the dream-shapes float;

When night falls my bed is a sailing boat.


A beautifully presented picture book with two front covers, the text can be read from front to back and vice versa. The mirror form poem meets in the middle in a stunning centrepiece image as the two children in the story (twins, one in an air balloon, the other a sailing boat) meet in the clouds!