I wish I had a basket I could keep with me each day,
And in it lived a pixie who was you in every way,
Except she would be small enough to feel the space inside,
Was comfortable and safe enough to be a place to hide.

I'd line my little basket with the softest silken thread,
And velvet pillows all around for her to lay her head.
When I was all alone and there was no one else in sight,
I'd open up my basket and we'd play and talk all night.

She'd tell me of a magic place where life is really dreams,
And all we thought was really real is not the way it seems.
To prove it she's use pixie dust to make her just your size,
And it would be like you were standing right before my eyes.

We'd laugh and talk or take a walk and maybe play a game,
'Til both of us begin to see that magic's not the same,
As really being there with you and having you with me.
So in my basket she would go to sleep so peacefully.

Love you,
Grandpa
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