My poem that I wrote

When Imagination imagines-
Her frame she drapes in red.
Fine white pears her neck cirle
Like a ring- it's said.

Walks she then down Childhood's street-
Proceeding in high heels.
Crispy leaves the edges line
Like a rope- that reels.

Imagination- Childhood meets-
Beneath the tree of Destiny.
Ponder they- their secret bond-
Why existent it must be.

Arrive- they do- at Age's Grave-
Lit by Freedom's moon.
Fireflies to them sing-
The autumn breeze joins soon.