Magical Window Poem by James Walter Orr

There exists a magical window
that I call my fantasy
and whatever I want, as I look through
is exactly what I'll see.

There exists a magical doorway
with a strange and magical key
of imagination and daydreams
and the things that I wish would be.

When I look through the magical window,
there's a girl who's beyond compare
with smoldering eyes and full, sweet lips
and a soul that is deep and rare.

If I dance through the magical doorway
to the strains of my favorite song,
her feet move with perfect harmony
and carry my love along.

How can she move in such perfect time?
How can everything be so true?
I have passed through the magical doorway,
with the magical window's view.

The magical window embroiders,
and tints all the things I see.
The magical door gives me entrance
to my world of fantasy.

When I look through the magical window,
do I look at a world unreal?
When I step through that magical portal,
is it into a dreamworld, still?

Remember that when I turn around
toward the door, from whence I came,
all I left is now on the other side
and nothing can be the same.

Now the other side is the strange side,
and the side where I am is real.
The music that falls on my ears, I hear,
and the dream girl, I really feel.

Which is the right side? the wrong side?
Which side is really unreal?
How can I leave a living dream
and forget all the things I feel?

My dream never has a heartache;
no encroaching grief or age.
My dream never has that missing word
and it has no missing page.

Why not pass through that window,
where my dream girl does reside,
and the flowers bloom and the birds sing,
and just leave that other side?