My Bed is an Air Balloon

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 sleeping
And 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 trees
Swings me up high, like a circus trapeze.
Now the cool, night-rustling air
Slips through my finger-gaps, ripples my hair;
Now we glide over water, the moon’s silver light
Blown 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, in which 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 poem (one in an air balloon, the other a sailing boat) meet in the clouds!