From a writing exercise…

Wind is magic

I like the wind

scented, sent from

far off lands,

to blow in

fantasy-sand.

I remember

Candy-apples

On sand from

Glass slippers,

petals from flowers

Touched by plump pumpkins.

It touches skin,

Brings happy thoughts

Far-far from grown-up

Wrongs.

The wind whisks me

past the second star,

to pirate ships, shirtless boys

Playing with little toys.

Mysteries,

It shows me

forgotten things.

Magic wands, spell-bound rings.

It  brought me back

after five years

of gaining size,

growing old

is a fairy-tale crime,

there was nothing I could do.