Once upon a time,
letters would come,
wrapped in blue,
air mailed, handwritten:
behave, be brave,
dad loves you
- he was away, in the war.
Behave, she did,
in white uniform.
A first great gift
to remember forever,
a book, short kid stories,
one on the moon, oh so envied
up above, can I reach you?
Words and pages
filling days
brought to life
a love to live, in making believe.
Aramis, not d'Artagnan,
Lancelot, not Arthur,
and a thief master of illusion
and a rebel with a scar
- hearted heroes,
in solitude and grief,
living in love, for one, for all.
Misbehave, she did,
a collage she made,
my kingdom is so not
in this world,
oh such a lonely,
not even silver
nor jolly jumper
were to be found
to walk with her
down the road.
Bravely she tried to thrive,
standing,
a willow by the river,
wind, bring me a bird song
or I'll surely die.
The heart shivers,
is this the chant
she was waiting for?
Words give her back
to the child she was,
on toe tips,
reaching for a moon.
Let her live
in delusion, why not?,
find me in this dungeon,
oh golden hearted,
please be real,
make me believe.
And the child does,
and she can not.
Or can she?
So sorry, daddy,
please understand.
26.09.2014
For Joe Cole's prompt "write me a poem"; maybe this one is not really suitable, but then again... do we get over childhood?
~~~
* thought the title was suitable; then, found about the 1973 movie with the same title; all coincidences are only coincidences.