Don't you know that everybody's got a Fairyland of their own? - P. L. Travers

There was something strange and extraordinary about her – something that was frightening and at the same time most exciting.

A pile of raspberry-jam-cakes as high as Mary Poppins’s waist stood in the centre, and beside it tea was boiling in a big brass urn. Best of all, there were two plates of whelks and two pins to pick them out with.

Next time you must stay for tea and we'll all sit together on a rock and sing a song to the moon