The boy climbed steadily
up the rough jagged side
of an old rock
deep in the woods

Reaching the top he proudly stood tall
brandishing his stick he cries
"Surrender, or you will die!"

Through his young eyes he sees
the enemy's army
creeping closer
behind him he hears
the warcrys of his men

And as he stands
a top his rock
the armies collide
the clashing of swords
and the pounding of feet

The rock upon which
he oversees the battle
has been worn smooth
by generations of young feet

The feet of generals, actors
singers and dancers
It always waits for its next adventure

The rock of unimaginable possibilities
The imagination rock...