My Bed Is An Air Balloon Av Julia Copus

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 sleepingAnd 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 treesSwings me up high, like a circus trapeze. Now the cool, night-rustling airSlips through my finger-gaps, ripples my hair; Now we glide over water, the moon's silver lightBlown 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!