The sea glitters like a thousand blue diamonds. Rolling waves lapping against golden sands to leave trailing foamy hands; a lover's fingers that longingly grasp. The sky is crystal - endlessly blue. Littered with fat clouds that beg a bite or curious hands to grasp and form into shapes only the eyes can see.

And grasp them She does, little putty in her hands. They take wondrous shapes: animals, people, objects, things. All things to brighten and delight the minds of children who look upon Her clouds, fingers pointing, heads nestled close, eyes bright and wide.

Their imagination spurs er own and the shapes and creates. Formless. Formed. An endless font of life that burns bright and white. A prism some where all colour comes and where all colour goes. Bleeding and breaking. But always back; back to the Ivory.