Sheltered behind a transparent dome, crafted from the clearest of glass,
Inanimate objects perch stock-still
Amongst an innocent world of make-believe.

Wooden figures in company of one another
Reside within such a wee domain,
Forevermore peering at the vast depths beyond,
But here they linger and remain.

A world somewhere else, always encompassing their man-made habitat,
Bustles with energetic life, and still, at unpredicted occasions,
Wonder-brimmed eyes dare to peer within such a mere snow globe,
Absorbing the motionless scene permanently on display.