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...












