a little book of prose-poetry ... 92

Some think it a fable,

How could it be true?

There’s a land somewhere

In this whole wide world

Where everyone and everything

Is given its due, its loving care;

Nowhere is there hunger,

None without love;

All within WhimsiLand,

Strangers alike,

In God’s own way

Live but to share;

Are here to stay.

— Garry D. Kilbourn