The Garden of Lost Toys
“Three, two, one,” I counted down, “Here I come!” I yelled pulling my head out from under my paws. “Wimsor, Wimsor.” I howled prancing my way through the garden, where are you, Wimsor?” I pressed my nose to the ground and took in a big breath; I could smell his scent; it was a mixture of clean sheets and mocha. I continued my search mazing through the patches of roses, sweet peas, sunflowers, and irises. My journey leads me to a large rock nestled in a field of Maiden grass. “Wimsor!” I screamed jumping on the rock. And there he was in all of his fluffy teddy bear goodness!
“Oh Solmire you found me.” He smiled looking up at me.
“I won again” I said jumping on him and taking hold of his arm in my mouth. He was so soft; his fur was a snow white, his eyes small black beads and his mouth a black stitching.
“Could you let go of my arm, please?” he asked. Reluctantly I let go, and he fell to the ground in a soft, “thud.”
“Do you want to play again?” I asked jumping around him.
“No not today you’ve already won six times in a row.” He groaned getting up and brushing himself off.
I sat down in the grass, and watched as Wimsor struggled to climb up the rock. “I got an idea!” I yelled shooting up to my feet. “Let’s explore the garden!”
Wimsor sat on the rock thinking for a while, “Okay,” he said after a while, “But I get to ride on your back.”
I smiled and jumped around some more, flatting the maiden grass around me, “Get on, get on,” I squealed with excitement, “Let’s go!”
He climbed on my back and we were off. I guess you wouldn’t really call this place a garden; it is more like a world. And this place isn’t like any other garden, every day new toys arrive scattering all over the garden. I call this place, “The Garden of Lost Toys,” Because all the toys that live in the flowers and the grass fields look so lonely and lost.
It was about five days ago when I found Wimsor asleep in a patch of tiger lillies. His fur was all stained up, and he had a poor attitude. I helped him clean up in the creek, and in a couple of days his mood improved. Wimsor was different from other toys that I’ve found in the garden. He had a sense of old wisdom to him.
We started on our journey following a dirt path that twisted its way through the garden and towards the mountain that lay in the distance. We pasted a lot of little doll villages on the way, as we pasted they would waved and wished us luck in our travels.
After a while of walking I grew tried and we took a break in a patch of dandy lions. When I entered the patch all at once a swarm of butterflies rose and took off into the air. I marveled at their diverse color. Revigorated with energy I jumped in the air trying to catch the butterflies as they flew away.
“Stop that,” a high pitched voice yelled at me. I turned my head and it was a fairy doll. “Don’t do that, we have places to be!” and she hit me on the snot with her wand and flew away with the butterflys.
I stood there a while in...