Abbeygail's Dreamland

Hi, and welcome to dreamland. ! May I thank you all for visiting my world. You will find my story page! some are fact some very much fiction,? I will leave you to work that for yourself??

I am in the process of adding more stories and extra chapters at the moment. Please bear with me during the update period, Thanks Abbey.

Basically, I'm a male who in reality is an 11 year old girl. Although I am a grown-up now, my yearnings are still for my 11 year old girl-self, Abbeygail. I do still dress-up and play at school's with of course me being a schoolgirl, It is fun and I enjoy it, and in my dreamland that;'s all that counts. It's what makes me very happy....because that's what I am and that's what I like.

Tell this Schoolgirl what you think of her Site by signing my register.

Please go to my

STORY PAGE

And you will find a true account of my growing up as well as some other fiction stories I have recently written.

Please write to me and ask me anything you want to. I promise to answer you back as soon as I can. I need new friends for Abbeygail so please write to me at the end of your visit, or leave a message in my guestbook, thank you all. Bye for now! Please call back later!

Hugs and Kisses!!!!!!
ALL MY LOVE, ABBEYGAIL

E-Mail Abbeygail

SIGN MY REGISTER

VIEW MY REGISTER

'The Begining�

�Cold hearty orb that rules the night, �Removes the colour from our sight, �Red is Grey, and Yellow Is White, �But we decide which is right, �And which is a illusion?

� Pinprick holes in a clourless sky, �Let insipid figures of light pass by, �The mighty light of ten thousand suns, �Challenges infinity and soon is gone.

� Night time, to some a brief interlude, �To other the fear of solitude, �Brave hellios wake up your steeds, �Bring warmth the countryside needs.

�Breathe deep the gathering gloom, �Watch lights fade from every room, �Bedsitter people look back and lament, Another day�s useless energy spent.

�Impassionate lovers wrestle as one, �Little Girl�s cries for love and has none, �New mother picks up and suckles her son, �Senior citizens wish they were young.

��Cold hearty orb that rules the night, �Removes the colour from our sight, �Red is Grey, and Yellow Is White, �But we decide which is right, �And which is a illusion?

�From the Album: �Days of Future Passed �By The Moody Blues. 1967

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