A wishing well

In a country far far away, lies the bend of a road. The road is beautifully surrounded by a little pond on one side and a dense row of daffodils on the other. The daffodils sway to the rythm of the breeze. A butterfly flutters through this dense thicket hopping from one flower to the next. An occassional drift in the direction of the wind seems to confuse it, for it hops back and forth so as to match its own pace with the rythm of the swaying daffodils. The soft streaming sunlight glistens as it touches the surface of the water in the pond. It appears as if the sunlight has brought down the stars with it to the earth. And just where the road bends, hiding in the deepest of thickets is the "wishing well". It is called so from the ancient times, though no one seems to recall why exactly it is called so. Maybe there is some tale behind it for being called so or maybe not. I would never know. I have passed this well on my way once a couple of years ago. Back then, i had this urge to drop a coin into it and make a wish. But somehow i never got around to doing it. I simply walked past it. Many a times when i feel i can no longer go on, when my heart is filled with despair, i just close my eyes, picture this wishing well and i find myself in the thicket of the daffodils. I just drop a coin and make a wish. It makes me feel better, my heart a little lighter. My heart is once again filled with hope and warmth that the glistening sunshine has to offer, the serenity at the sight of the rythmically swaying daffodils and the colours of joy that the fluttering butterfly seems to dispense. I certainly seem to have found my wishing well.
Do you care to make a wish?