There once was a pair of magic boots
Donned by a little old man If you took him by the elbow He could take you to any land
He'd tap his magic boots One, two, one and two And whoosh through the twirly tunnel To a lay with a bewitching view
"Where are we?" I asked in awe. He gleefully replied, "It's my land of home." 'It's such a pleasing place," I spoke. "Do you know nostalgia somewhere you've roamed?" Startled by the querie, I gave due thought "None so wondrous nor bountiful as this." "My dear, it doesn't have to be, But somewhere you are missed?"