Poppy sat at the foot of the oak tree, her eyes closed and her face turned towards the warm sun. Her curly hair danced with the wind, and in her hand, she held a small notebook filled with scribbles and doodles. The world around her was alive with endless possibilities that only she could see. "Today, the tree is a mighty ship sailing across the sea," she whispered to herself, imagining the creaking of timber and the salty spray of ocean waves.

"Poppy, come inside! Breakfast is ready," Clara called, her voice cutting through Poppy's daydream. She sighed as she watched her daughter remain lost in her world. "That girl spends too much time in her head," she muttered under her breath, not understanding the adventures that played out behind Poppy's eyes.

Poppy giggled as she conversed with the gnomes, her voice animated and full of excitement. "We must find the hidden treasure before the sun sets," she instructed, pointing towards the flower bed that, in her mind, was a map leading to untold riches. Her laughter echoed through the trees, a melody of innocence and wonder.

"Poppy, enough with the make-believe. Come help your mother," Tom called, his tone firm but gentle. Poppy hesitated, torn between the vibrant world of her imagination and the reality that beckoned her inside. "But, Dad, we're so close to finding the treasure," she pleaded, her eyes wide with earnestness.

"Poppy, we worry that you spend too much time in your fantasies," Clara said softly, her arm wrapped around her daughter. "But it's not just pretend, Mom. It's my world," Poppy explained, her face earnest. Tom nodded thoughtfully, realizing that perhaps there was more to Poppy's imagination than met the eye.

"Maybe we could join you on an adventure someday," Tom suggested, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. Poppy beamed, her heart swelling with joy. "I'd love that, Dad," she replied, her voice a blend of hope and happiness. The world felt a little more magical that night, with promises of shared adventures and newfound understanding.