The ginger bread Islands.

One day in Boston at Woo Ching White Crane
The students were bored. Kelly said, “This is lame!”
“Let’s go have some fun! Let’s go play some games!”

All of the students were thinking the same.
“How would they get there?”

“Let’s Fly on this Crane!”
The shout came from Tony, the Hawk folding paper.
When he was finished he blew on it,
And it grew greater and greater.

Now as large as the room and as glorious as their minds
The paper crane plane opened up and they stepped inside.

They sat on the floor furnished and flown by meditation
And the crane lifted off flying on the power of imagination.

They flew through the city, right through the concrete
Damaging nothing, not even rising form their seats.

And they flew all different directions or
Perhaps all the same,
Landing in a Ginger Ale ocean
sweetened with sugar cane.

They looked above deck in their paper crane ship,
just as thud came from a giant something they hit.

“Where are we?” shouted August
seeing what they hit was a beach.
and shouting to gingerbread people playing
cards with big leaves.

One answered,

“The Ginger Bread Islands in the Ginger Ale Seas
The home of Tea Bears and Ginger Monkeys.
And our ginger bread people making ginger honey.
These and many others co-exist peacefully.”


“Thank you and onward then.” Shouted Kelly jumping ashore.
Whatever lay ahead would certainly not be a bore.