The Sunflower room.  Only open to the impossible yet all things are possible in the sunflower room.  Their silk stems woven by teeny hands.  It becomes when strawberries are deep red and the skies turn purplish blue.  The sunflower room only stays for a day but in that day, fantastic things happen.  They come out to play, but they stay hidden, hidden by the sunflower room.  Their small wings lift them off the ground to the large petals of the sunflowers.  The sunflower room surrounds them, closing out the actual world and create fantasy.
    The red spotted mushrooms become tables and pebbles become chairs.  Acorn caps to drinking cups and leaves from trees to musical instruments.  Then they dance, dance for that one night the sunflower room stays.  The sunflower room.
 Daybreak comes, after the dancing is through and the sun is just on the horizon, giving of a pink glow, it is gone.  The tables, chairs, cups, and instruments all become inanimate, leaving no evidence.  They are also gone, wings and all, and the sunflower room opens to the accurate world again, as the strawberries turn brown and the sunflowers wilt and die.
   It will all come back next year though, to be cheerful and immortal once again.  The sunflower room.
 

We are collecting short stories and poems for publication in 2004-2005.   By submitting your work either via mail or electronically, you are granting St. Croix ArtBarn permission to publish it.  Plans are to put out an annual printed magazine in 2005.