A Child's World
There is a World that Death can never touch.
Where Time can never enter
A place where forever is really forever
Yet fades in an instant like melting sugar
A Land where Anarchy is the only law
Where entire kingdoms rise up out of tinkling laughter
Only to be destroyed in a passionate rage the next moment
And another sparkling city rises from its ashes
A Place where the gossamer wings of fairies catch the light of the refracted rainbows
Where the murmurs of the wind are the whispered wishes of lost souls
And magic and pixie dust are just a waking dream away
Sprinkled on the lashes and cheeks of sleeping faces
A Stage in the Sky, where the stars never go out
And dance just beyond reach in their blue black backdrop
Their curtain of the universe
Closed over the infinite heavens
A House that’s only entrance is the back door
The only secret password the Breath of Youth
Where a mother’s sweet kisses are forgotten amidst the flush of excitement
Stirred up by imagined treasures and worlds
A World made out of old pillows and blankets
Crouched under chairs in the dining room
A broken flashlight the only light to illuminate the dusty path
That leads to the Child’s World
Where Time can never enter
A place where forever is really forever
Yet fades in an instant like melting sugar
A Land where Anarchy is the only law
Where entire kingdoms rise up out of tinkling laughter
Only to be destroyed in a passionate rage the next moment
And another sparkling city rises from its ashes
A Place where the gossamer wings of fairies catch the light of the refracted rainbows
Where the murmurs of the wind are the whispered wishes of lost souls
And magic and pixie dust are just a waking dream away
Sprinkled on the lashes and cheeks of sleeping faces
A Stage in the Sky, where the stars never go out
And dance just beyond reach in their blue black backdrop
Their curtain of the universe
Closed over the infinite heavens
A House that’s only entrance is the back door
The only secret password the Breath of Youth
Where a mother’s sweet kisses are forgotten amidst the flush of excitement
Stirred up by imagined treasures and worlds
A World made out of old pillows and blankets
Crouched under chairs in the dining room
A broken flashlight the only light to illuminate the dusty path
That leads to the Child’s World
♠ ♠ ♠
So this one just came to me. I saw a sentence in a story's Short Description that just BAM! set the poem in motion in my head. I wrote it in about ten minutes, cleaned it up a little bit, and viola- a poem straight from my heart. I don't write poetry very often, and it doesn't just come to me like that, so this is a special little ditty. All my poems are, I suppose- I hate poetry because unless I am seized by poetic emotion, I don't get it.But so here it is, my take on childhood. Enjoy.