No Price Too Great

One man in a billion can build a castle,
and it takes only six lucky numbers
for me to resurrect a legacy of reptiles
and place them in a world of magic where,
after the last
        "Lights!"
                  "Camera!"
                            "Action!"
can the world see my dream realised,
and the faces of fantasy grow to realism
in a world where imagination is hidden
like a secret the world could never know.

With a calligraphed signature,
like magic, I can make dragons appear.
Their animated scales sparkle on screen
for pure and rich of colour I would but touch them,
as though my Midas touch could make them real.

Bricks and mortar turn to marble, molten gold,
dreams laid in neat rows until they tower
high enough to bring this castle from my dreams
to emerald-covered grounds, dotted with glass flowers.
Dragons hover over arching spires,
their wings beating weather-worn flags.
On the silver screen, their eyes fill with emotion,
Wrinkled dollars slip through
my fingers to the bottomless pockets
of men with dreams,
dreams like mine.

But in their gilded mansions, these men
will never understand that there is no price too great
to pay for the renewal of imagination in a generation
that fell victim to a vampire's sex appeal, not his species,
and forgot the elven language for football tryouts.
No price too great to drop a seed
of imagination into the soul
of every child who once had a dream.

"Lights,
    Camera,
          Action."

Shh.
Just watch.
And remember the legacy forgot.